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THE MODERN LIBRARY 

OF THE WORLD'S BEST BOOKS 



MARJORIE FLEMING'S BOOK 



The Publishers will be glad to mail a 
complete list of titles in the Modern 
Library. The list is representative 
of the Great Moderns and is one of 
the most important contributions to 
publishing that has been made for 
many years. Every reader of books 
will find titles he needs at a low price 
and in an attractive form. 




Marjorie and Sir Walter Scott 

(From the title-page of Farnie's 

"Pet Marjorie.") 



MARJORIE FLEMING'S BOOK 

THE STORY OF PET MARJORIE 

TOGETHER WITH HER JOURNALS AND HER LETTERS 



By Lf MacBEAN 



TO WHICH IS ADDED 

MARJORIE FLEMING 

A STORY OF CHILD-LIFE FIFTY YEARS AGO 
BY JOHN BROWN, M.D. 

INTRODUCTION BY CLIFFORD SMYTH 

ILLUSTRATED 




BONI AND LIVERIGHT 



PUBLISHERS .:. .:. NEW YORK 



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CONTENTS 

< 

PAGE 

Introduction by Clifford Smyth ...... ix 

Marjorie Fleming's Book by L. MacBean ... i 
Marjorie Fleming by John Brown, M.D. . ♦ . 173 






ILLUSTRATIONS 



• 



Marjorie and Sir Walter Scott . . . Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Map Showing Location of Raith 3 v 

Marjorie's Birthplace 7 w 

One of Marjorie's Books 19 - 

Specimen Page of Manuscript 25^ 

Genealogies of the Families of Marjorie Fleming and 

Sir Walter Scott 240 y 



INTRODUCTION 

YOU will surely love her; you can't help 
it. If you are a woman, all the yearn- 
ings of motherhood will draw you to her 
irresistibly. If you are a man, her innocent 
coquetries, her feminine graces will have 
you captive in less than half an hour, just 
as happened to her famous lover a century 
ago. For romance is as potent to-day as it 
was then — and it was the innate romance of 
Marjorie's personality that appealed to Sir 
Walter, just as it is bound to appeal to those 
men and women of the twentieth century 
who are fortunate enough to read her book. 
This personality of hers is, indeed, the 
real secret of Marjorie Fleming's assured 
place in our hearts. Had she been merely 
a precocious child who wrote verses that 
scanned and rhymed, that were distin- 
guished by some flavor of originality, 
couched in words unfamiliar to normal 
childhood, her memory would not have 

xi 



xii INTRODUCTION 

gone beyond the pages of some dry-as-dust 
chronicle of literary curiosities. Precocity 
is interesting to the parents of the unfortu- 
nate child who is afflicted with it; to the 
stranger, the casual visitor, or even the re- 
mote relation, decorously attuned to the 
right degree of wonder and admiration, it 
is usually a weariness from which all of us 
pray to be spared. But neither learning 
above her years nor an amazing esthetic 
taste are qualities to which "Pet Mar- 
jorie" owes her fame. In what she wrote 
there is nothing quite so finished, so mature 
in thought, so delicately imaginative, as one 
finds, for instance, in much of little Hilda 
Conkling's verse. Nor, for sustained humor 
and narrative excellence, can Marjorie's 
"Diary" bear comparison with Daisy Ash- 
ford's justly famous romance. Neverthe- 
less, gifted as are these two child-writers of 
our own day, we don't fall unreservedly in 
love with them as we do with Scott's Mar- 
jorie. It is her waywardness, her delicious 
medley of contradictions, her sudden pas- 
sions, her solemn assurance that she "has 



INTRODUCTION xiii 

been very more like a little young devil than 
a creature/' her ardent friendships, her 
lapses into unexpected moods of moralizing, 
that tinge everything she writes with her 
own colorful personality, and make one long 
to snatch her up and hug her — as one does 
with any normal child whose attractiveness 
is wholly unconscious and who appears no 
older than she really is. Marjorie, indeed, 
did excite that kind of impulsive affection 
in her admirers, a fact that she notes with 
characteristic piquancy : "Yesterday a mar- 
rade man named Mr John Balfour Esg 
offered to kiss me, and offered to marry me 
though the man was espused, & and his wife 
was present and said he must ask her permis- 
sion but he did not, I think he was ashamed 
or confounded before 3 gentlemen Mr Job- 
son and two Mr Kings." We are not told 
whether the intrepid Mr John Balfour Esg. 
succeeded in his nefarious purpose, for 
Marjorie, without the warning signal even 
of a punctuation mark, makes one of those 
flying leaps into a totally different subject 
that keeps her readers in a constant state of 



xiv INTRODUCTION 






enjoyable bewilderment: "Isabella teaches 
me to read my bible and tells me to be good 
and say my prayers, and everything that is 
nesary for a good caracter and a good con- 



cience." 



There is much of the Ashfordian relish 
scattered throughout the "Diary" — it has 
been suggested, indeed, that "The Young 
Visiters" is really a posthumous tale by 
Marjorie Fleming — but there are memor- 
able bits from the pen of the Scotch lassie 
better than anything in the later romance 
that so quickly set two continents a-laugh- 
ing. This, for example : 

Three turkeys fair their last have breathed, 

And now this world forever leaved; 

Their father, and their mother too, 

They sigh and weep as well as you ; 

Indeed, the rats their bones have cranched. 

Into eternity theire launched. 

A direful death indeed they had, 

As wad put any parent mad ; 

But she was more than usual calm, 

She did not give a single dam. 



INTRODUCTION xv 

That is good narrative verse; as a speci- 
men of the unconscious humor of childhood 
it would be difficult to equal. Compare it 
with the "Verses on a Cat," written at the 
same age (seven years or thereabouts) by a 
famous contemporary of Marjorie's, and the 
genuine quality of the Fleming humor 
stands out in all its whimsicality. 

A cat in distress, 

Nothing more, nor less; 
Good folks, I must faithfully tell ye, 

As I am a sinner, 

It waits for some dinner 
To stuff out its own little belly. 

You would not easily guess 

All the modes of distress 
Which torture the tenants of earth; 

And the various evils, 

Which like so many devils, 
Attend the poor souls from their birth. 

Some a living require, 
And others desire 
An old fellow out of the way; 



xvi INTRODUCTION 

And which is the best 
I leave to be guessed, 
For I cannot pretend to say. 

One wants society, 

Another variety, 
Others a tranquil life; 

Some want food, 

Others, as good, 
Only want a wife. 

But this poor little cat 

Only wanted a rat, 
To stuff out its own little maw; 

And it were as good 

Some people had such food, 
To make them hold their jaw! 

Who would guess that Shelley, the master 
lyrist, wrote this! It is more precocious, 
certainly, than Marjorie's effusions, either 
in prose or verse, written at the same age. 
That is, it sounds like the work of a grown- 
up person who can turn out a sophisticated 
kind of verse, correct enough in form, but 
hopelessly tiresome, utterly lacking in the 



INTRODUCTION xvii 

artless art, the delicious humor of child- 
hood. Marjorie Fleming never could have 
risen to the sterile heights of "Verses on a 
Cat." Given the same theme, however, she 
would have woven a narrative filled with 
surprises, rich in the naive eloquence that 
never failed her, and blest with the immor- 
tality of genuine laughter. 

Here is another poem, by a seven-year- 
old poet, that contrasts strangely with any- 
thing written by Marjorie Fleming: 

Evening 

Now it is dusky, 

And the hermit thrush and the black and 

white warbler 
Are singing and answering together. 
There is sweetness in the tree, 
And fireflies are counting the leaves. 
I like this country, 
I like the way it has, 
But I cannot forget my dream I had of the 

sea, 
The gulls swinging and calling, 
And the foamy towers of the waves. 



xviii INTRODUCTION 

That is altogether lovely, a clear-cut 
cameo of sentiment and imagination, pure 
and delicate enough to command an honored 
place in any collection of Nature Poetry. 
It is by Hilda Conkling, and quite typical of 
that remarkable young lady's verse. Miss 
Lowell says of her, "I know of no other in- 
stance in which such really beautiful poetry 
has been written by a child." Those of us 
who have read the little volume will agree 
with Miss Lowell's estimate. It is beautiful 
poetry. But, is it the poetry of childhood? 
It has the maturity of thought, the spirit- 
uality, the deft phrasing that comes, if at all, 
with years of literary cultivation. How a 
little girl of seven could have hit upon such 
refinements of art is indeed a problem for 
the psychologist. But, for this very reason, 
without any wish to disparage Hilda's really 
incomparable achievement, one does not 
recognize a child's voice singing these 
limpid lines of hers. 

There is always a sort of biblical sincer- 
ity and downrightness about an intelligent, 
unspoiled child's utterance; a quaint grav- 



INTRODUCTION xix 

ity, a humor that knows not that it is humor- 
ous, a simplicity of expression that savors of 
some ancient saga. That rare being, a child- 
poet, is a wild rose in a garden whose fra- 
grant many-tinted flowers are the last word 
in artistic loveliness and complexity. The 
wild rose has but a few petals in its coronal ; 
its fragrance is as elusive as a summer 
zephyr. But we love it for its very unculti- 
vation, its wayward habit of straggling off 
into unexpected nooks and corners, above all 
for its reminiscent flavor of the primitive 
things of nature. Such a wild rose, such a 
child-poet is this Marjorie of Sir Walter's, 
and this her Book, finding its appropriate 
niche, after a century of wanderings, in The 
Modern Library, will live for many of us as 
a veritable epic of childhood's comedies and 
tragedies. 

How Scott loved her! Dr. John Brown's 
tribute to her — "the best book about a child 
that ever was written" — given in this vol- 
ume, makes the child and the great 
romancer live again for us in a way that is 
good to remember. In one passage, Dr. 



xx INTRODUCTION 



Brown describes him, deep in the throes 
"Waverley," but "can make nothing of it 
to-day." "I'll awa to Marjorie!" he ex- 
claims. And then, arrived at her house — 

"Marjorie! Marjorie!" shouted her 
friend, "where are ye, my bonnie wee 
croodlin doo?" In a moment a bright, 
eager child of seven was in his arms, and 
he was kissing her all over. Out came 
Mrs. Keith. "Come yer ways in, Wattie." 
"No, not now. I am going to take Mar- 
jorie wi' me, and you may come to your 
tea in Duncan Roy's sedan, and bring the 
bairn home in your lap." "Tak' Marjorie, 
and it on-ding o' snaw!" said Mrs. Keith. 
He said to himself, "On-ding, — that's 
odd, — that is the very word." "Hoot, awa! 
look here," and he displayed the corner of 
his plaid, made to hold lambs (the true 
shepherd's plaid, consisting of two breadths 
sewed together, and uncut at one end, mak- 
ing a poke, or cul-de-sac). "Tak' yer 
lamb!" said she, laughing at the con- 
trivance; and so the 'Pet was first well 
happitup, and then put, laughing silently, 
into the plaid neuk, and the shepherd strode 
off with his lamb, — Maida gambolling 



of 



INTRODUCTION xxi 

through the snow and running races in her 
mirth. 

Didn't he face "the angry airt," and make 
her bield his bosom, and into his own room 
with her, and out with the warm, rosy little 
wifie, who took it all with great composure! 
There the two remained for three or four 
hours, making the house ring with their 
laughter; you can fancy the big man's and 
Maidie's laugh. Having made the fire 
cheery, he set her down in his ample chair, 
and, standing sheepishly before her, began 
to say his lesson, which hapened to be: 
"Ziccotty, diccotty, dock, the mouse ran up 
the clock, the clock struck wan, down the 
mouse ran, ziccotty, diccotty, dock." This 
done repeatedly till she was pleased, she 
gave him his new lesson, gravely and 
slowly, timing it upon her small fingers, — 
he saying it after her : 

Wonery, twoery, tickery, seven; 
Alibi, crackaby, ten, and eleven; 
Pin, pan, musky, dan; 
Tweedle-um, twoddle-um, 
Twenty-wan; eerie, orie, ourie, 
You, are, out. 

He pretended to great difficulty, and she 
rebuked him with most comical gravity, 



xxii INTRODUCTION 

treating him as a child. He used to say that 
when he came to Alibi Crackaby he broke 
down; and Pin-Pan, Musky-Dan, Tweedle- 
um, Twoodle-um, made him roar with 
laughter. He said Musky-Dan especially 
was beyond endurance, bringing up an 
Irishman and his hat fresh from the Spice 
Islands and odoriferous Ind; she getting 
quite bitter in her displeasure at his ill-be- 
havior and stupidness. 

Then he would read ballads to her in his 
own glorious way, the two getting wild with 
excitement over "Gil Morrice" or the 
"Baron of Smailholm": and he would take 
her on his knee and make her repeat Con- 
stance's speeches in "King John," till he 
swayed to and fro, sobbing his fill. . . . 
Scott used to say that he was amazed at her 
power over him, saying to Mrs. Keith: 
"She's the most extraordinary creature I 
ever met with, and her repeating of Shake- 
speare overpowers me as nothing else does." 

And so, with this little fairy ever at his 
elbow, the Great Magician wrote "Waver- 
ley." But before that first of a long line of 
romances was given to the public, Scott's 
Marjorie was no more. 



INTRODUCTION xxiit 

In "The Dictionary of National Biog- 
raphy," Sir Leslie Stephen concludes the 
paragraph devoted to her with these words : 
"Pet Marjorie's life is probably the shortest 
to be recorded in these volumes, and she is 
one of the most charming characters." For 
many years little was known of her, and 
such of her quaint sayings and poems as 
came down to us were to be found only in 
Doctor Brown's pamphlet. Recently, how- 
ever, her complete Diaries and Poems were 
discovered among the yellowing papers that 
had passed into the possession of a younger 
branch of her family, and from these liter- 
ary treasures Mr. L. MacBean compiled the 
narrative that appeared in the Centenary 
Memorial to Marjorie, in 1903, and is now 
republished in the Modern Library. 

In the literature of childhood there is 
nothing like this exquisite, spontaneous 
record of a wonderful life ended almost be- 
fore it was begun. The pathos of it, after 
one has laughed over its quaint humors! 
What might not this glorious little creature 
have achieved, had it not been for her un- 



xxiv INTRODUCTION 



timely taking off, is the inevitable exclama 
tion with the turning of the volume's last 
page. But, after all, if she had lived, if she 
had grown up to be a woman, a wife, a 
mother, she would no longer be Marjorie 
Fleming for us, no matter what rare contri- 
butions to literature she might have made in 
the years of her maturity. As it is, Mar- 
jorie and her Book remain for all gener- 
ations the Eternal Child, "The Salt of the 
Earth," as Swinburne, most eloquent of 
child-lovers, puts it in one of many tender 
lyrics in praise of childhood — 

If childhood were not in the world, 
But only men and women grown ; 

No baby-locks in tendrils curled, 
No baby-blossoms blown; 

Though men were stronger, women fairer, 
And nearer all delights in reach, 

And verse and music uttered rarer 
Tones of more godlike speech; 

Though the utmost life of life's best hours 
Found, as it cannot now find, words ; 



■a- 



INTRODUCTION xxv 

Though desert sands were sweet as flowers 
And flowers could sing like birds, 

But children never heard them, never 
They felt a child's foot leap and run: 

This were a drearier star than ever 
Yet looked upon the sun. 

Clifford Smyth. 



The Publishers wish to express their appreciation 
to N. P. D. of The New York Evening Globe, for 
suggesting this book for the Modern Library. 



MARJORIE FLEMING'S BOOK 

By L. MacBEAN 



MARJORIE FLEMING 

MARJORIE FLEMING, the winsome 
"Maidie" of her own family, the 
"Bonnie Wee Croodlin' Doo" of Sir Walter 
Scott, was born just a hundred years ago in 
the old-fashioned Scottish town of Kirk- 
caldy, on the northern shore of the Firth of 
Forth. Her little span of life covered 
barely nine years, and of these three were 
spent in and near Edinburgh on the oppo- 
site shore of the Firth. It was a brief 
career, and yet in those few seasons Mar- 
jorie became "the Immortal Child" of all 
literature, and "the most attractive of whom 
record has been written." Her artless writ- 
ings have been classed with the wonders of 
the world, though indeed she was often but 
a merry, inconsequent babbler, as every real 
child must be. A real, natural child she was 
differing in nothing from other children, 

i 



2 MARJORIE FLEMING 

unless in the extraordinary vividness of her 
feelings and the consequent piquancy of her 
language, and very childlike was every ex- 
pression of her affectionate disposition. But 
though a child, Marjorie had keen literary 
tastes, and her eager mind reveled in the 
books available at the beginning of the nine- 
teenth century. She also inherited strong re- 
ligious emotions, and these were unduly 
stimulated by the stern Calvinistic puritan- 
ism of the Scottish theology of that period, 
with results that were pathetic. No one 
who knew little "Maidie" could escape her 
personal charm, and fortunately for us that 
charm is no mere tradition, for she chanced 
to embody much of her mind and heart in 
the little diaries which are here published. 

The family of Marjorie's father belonged 
to Perthshire, and were in comfortable cir- 
cumstances, being possessed of a small prop- 
erty in the parish of Kirkmichael. The 
Flemings were rather proud of their High- 
land descent, and it is perhaps not straining 
the point to trace to this source the perfervid 
genius, or, to use Burns's words, the "hair- 



Fl FEtfHIRE 







fe 



RAvetstow 






GoflSTORWlNE, 




Af«y Showing Location of Raith. 
3 



4 MARJORIE FLEMING 

brained sentimental trace" found in little 
Marjorie. Her great-grandfather had a 
shepherd who witnessed the fall of Viscount 
Dundee at the battle of Killiecrankie. Her 
grandfather came under the glamor of 
Prince Charlie and fought for him at Cul- 
loden, a fact treasured in the traditions of 
the family. Her father, James Fleming, 
was educated at Blairgowrie and the Gram- 
mar School at Perth, and afterwards at 
Edinburgh. In 1788 his brother, the Rev. 
Dr. Fleming, was appointed by the magis- 
trates of Kirkcaldy to the Parish Church of 
the town. Mr. James Fleming settled in 
Kirkcaldy, probably on the invitation of his 
brother, and soon established a good busi- 
ness as an accountant. 

Marjorie's mother, Isabella Rae, was the 
youngest daughter of an eminent Edinburgh 
surgeon. His five children were all en- 
dowed with intellectual qualities of no ordi- 
nary kind, and Isabella was particularly ac- 
complished. She was educated at the High 
School of Edinburgh and among her friends 
and companions there, and also before she 






MARJORIE FLEMING 5 

went to school, were Walter Scott, Francis 
Jeffrey, and Henry Brougham, the first be- 
ing rather older and the last mentioned con- 
siderably younger than she was. Isabella 
used to say that she "liked Wattie much 
better than either Frankie, or Harry." On 
one occasion when the children were playing 
together in Parliament Square, some jostling 
took place during which she knocked 
Frankie down. It was an experience for the 
future Lord Francis Jeffrey, but as one of 
the maids in charge turned on Isabella and 
shook her, the little girl had most cause to 
remember the incident. 

Isabella's eldest sister, Elizabeth, was also 
an admirer of Walter Scott, but being much 
older than he, she was able to patronize and 
encourage him. Observing his talent as a 
youth, though he was then unknown to fame, 
she wrote the lines mistakenly ascribed by 
his biographer, Lockhart, to Mrs. Cock- 
burn, author of The Flowers of the Forest: 

Go on, dear youth, the glorious path pursue, 
Which bounteous Nature kindly smoothes 
for you ; 



6 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Go bid the seeds her hands have sown arise, 
By timely culture, to their native skies. 
Go, and employ the poet's heavenly art, 
Not merely to delight, but mend the heart! 

It is also worthy of record that Elizabeth 
with the assistance of her sister Isabella, 
Marjorie's mother, became the founder 
of one of Scotland's most useful charities, 
the Royal Society for Relief of Incur- 
ables. 

It was at a dance in Whitehouse, the home 
of Mr. Fergus, the Chief Magistrate of 
Kirkcaldy, that Isabella Rae first met James 
Fleming. The acquaintance thus formed led 
to their marriage, which took place at the 
fine old mansion house of Giles Grange, 
Edinburgh, the residence of the bride's 
grandfather. Mr. and Mrs. Fleming lived 
at 130 High Street, Kirkcaldy, and it was 
here that their third child, Marjorie, was 
born on the 15th January, 1803. The house 
is little changed since then. It is a three- 
story building, the ground floor used as a 
bookseller's shop, behind which in Mar- 







Marjories Birthplace. 

1 



8 MARJORIE FLEMING 

jorie's day was the kitchen belonging to the 
dwelling-house above. The entrance to the 
house is through an arched way, which also 
led to the garden. The end of the house 
towards the sea is a rounded storm-gable and 
beneath it is the long room which during 
Marjorie's childhood was used as a draw- 
ing-raom. It was furnished with slender 
bamboo and Chippendale furniture, covered 
with Kirkcaldy made linen ornamented 
with curious figures cut from chintz. Here 
Marjorie used to sit and read much, even 
before she had attained her fifth year. The 
dining-room looked to the street, and from 
the front windows she loved to watch the 
stage coaches, and other traffic. In the next 
flat above was her nursery, and at the top of 
the staircase may still be seen the grooves of 
the little gate intended to save her from fall- 
ing downstairs. This old house Marjorie 
shared with her brother William, five years, 
and her sister Isabella, two years older than 
herself. During the first five years of her 
life these were her playmates, and the big 
old-fashioned garden, rich in currant bushes 



MARJORIE FLEMING 9 

and flowers and grassy slopes, was her play- 
ground. 

Kirkcaldy was a small manufacturing 
town, the sea within easy reach on the one 
side, and country lanes on the other. The 
causewayed street, the sandy beach, the quiet 
roads and hedgerows, and the lovely policies 
of Raith, which lay just a mile from her 
home, were Marjorie's larger playground, 
but the children were not permitted to 
wander far except in charge of a nurse. 
Raith was then as now the family seat of the 
Fergusons, whose present representative is 
Mr. Munro-Ferguson, M.P., a prominent 
politician, the friend of Lord Rosebery and 
husband of Lady Helen, daughter of the late 
Marquis of Dufferin. One of the earliest 
stories of her childhood relates to a walk 
with her sister Isabella and their nurse, 
Jeanie Robertson, in Raith Grounds. The 
nurse was devoted to Marjorie, but 
rather unpleasant to Isabella. The story 
told by a member of the family is as fol- 
lows: 



io MARJORIE FLEMING 

"When walking in Raith Grounds, the 
two children had run on before, and old 
Jeanie remembered they might come too 
near a dangerous mill-lade. She called to 
them to turn back; Maidie (Marjorie's pet 
name) heeded her not, rushed all the faster 
on and fell, and would have been lost had 
not her sister pulled her back, saving her 
life but tearing her clothes. Jeanie flew on 
Isabella to 'give it her' for spoiling her 
favorite's dress. Maidie rushed in between, 
crying out 'Pay (whip) Maidie as much as 
you like and I will not say a word, but touch 
Isy and I will roar like a bull.' Years after 
Maidie was resting in her grave," adds 
Marjorie's younger sister, "my mother used 
to take me to the place, and told the story in 
the exact words." 

Our knowledge of the child has been 
made more intimate by the portraits pro- 
cured for this book, most of them now pub- 
lished for the first time. The earliest extant 
portrait is too unflattering for reproduction. 
It represents Maidie at the age of three 
years or so, a stout child dressed in brown 



MARJORIE FLEMING u 

blue-braided tunic with low body, white 
linen drawers descending to the ankles and 
well frilled as was the fashion of the period, 
and a neat pair of red shoes. In her arms 
she fondles a large toy dove while she drags 
along by a red worsted cord the basket con- 
taining the dove's nest. The portrait is 
painted on a card and may have been 
Maidie's first valentine. 

The other portraits show the child at 
various ages from her sixth to her ninth 
year. They confirm the testimony of her 
family that she was a healthy, well-condi- 
tioned child. Her younger sister, who often 
heard of the little maid from their mother's 
lips, wrote, "I believe she was a child of 
robust health, of much vigor of body, and 
beautifully formed arms, and until her last 
illness was never an hour in bed." As an 
accurate summing up of Marjorie's appear- 
ance, and a penetrative comprehension of 
her nature, nothing could be better than the 
description so aptly worded by Mrs. Jessie 
Patrick Findlay : "The deep, dark eyes and 
bowlike mouth suggest remarkable thought- 



12 MARJORIE FLEMING 

fulness and energy, albeit in repose. In all 
the portraits there is a striking spaciousness 
of forehead, more particularly between the 
eyes, and those eyes hold just a suspicion of 
hauteur in their questioning depths. The 
mouth is beyond doubt the characteristic 
feature in the child's face. It is at once 
sensitive and strong, and in it there is plain 
evidence of her loving disposition, and also 
of the 'temper' which Marjorie so remorse- 
fully deplores. The whole face seems to 
challenge the onlooker to read the character 
of its possessor, so full of contradiction is it, 
so full of diverse possibilities." 

Isa Keith, Marjorie's cousin and dearest 
friend, to whose deft pencil we owe the por- 
traits, says she was "in no great beauty," and 
Pet Marjorie herself, no doubt echoing the 
verdict of Isa and other friends, writes in 
her journals, "I am very strong and robust 
and not of the delicate sex nor of the fair 
but of the deficient in looks." The confes- 
sion was no doubt sincere, and yet if these 
portraits have any truth the child was, if 
not beautiful, at least interesting and attrac- 



MARJORIE FLEMING 13 

tive. That the portraits are faithful to the 
original no one can doubt who examines 
them, and finds in each the same spirited, 
sensitive, thoughtful girl — no matter how 
different her mood and her circumstances. 
Whether in the full of bloom and buoyancy 
of happy girlhood, or in the weakness of 
disease, the child has in each the same open, 
fearless gaze full of questioning and chal- 
lenge, the same longing for knowledge and 
for love. For Marjorie, so far from being a 
pale weakling, as precocious children often 
are, was all aglow with life, eager to dis- 
cover all the world had to reveal, and ready 
to repay affection a hundredfold. It was 
perhaps well that hers was the fate of those 
whom the gods love. Those deep, passion- 
ate eyes, that proud, sensitive mouth, that 
impulsive temperament, contained all the 
possibilities of disaster. The world yields 
no adequate satisfaction for an ardent nature 
like Marjorie Fleming's. 

There could be no greater tribute to the 
love-compelling power of our Maidie than 
the fact that so many souvenirs of her brief 



i 4 MARJORIE FLEMING 

life were preserved by her friends, and are 
still treasured after a hundred years. We 
have seen and touched four tresses of her 
pretty hair ranging in color from almost 
lint-white, cut when she was a tiny infant, 
through auburn and light brown to the deep 
brown of her ninth year. On the paper 
enclosing the last-mentioned are the words 
in her mother's handwriting, "Cut during 
her last illness." 

Scarcely less pathetic is a tiny pass-book, 
quite blank, but once a possession of Mar- 
jorie's, and intended to have been filled by 
her had she lived. On the inside of the 
cover are the sorrowful words, "A Remem- 
brance of dear Maidie, who died Dec. 19, 
aged 8 years and 1 1 months. By her mother, 
Jan. 12, 1 81 2." The blank pages are very 
suggestive. What childlike reflections might 
have covered them had the little owner 
lived ! 

Another relic of little Maidie long pre- 
served by her family, but now lost, was a 
copy of Rosamond and Harry and Lucy by 
Miss Edgeworth. It bore an inscription 



MARJORIE FLEMING 15 

showing that it was a "gif t to Marjorie from 
Walter Scott." 

Maidie's Bible has also been treasured for 
her sake. It is in two little volumes, as Bibles 
were often bound in those days. The faded 
book-marks still remain as she placed them, 
one at David's lament for Saul and Jona- 
than. 

Marjorie received her earliest education 
from her gifted mother, who found the little 
pupil apt to learn. She was unusually clever 
for her age, though of that she was quite un- 
conscious. Eager in her thirst for knowl- 
edge, seeming almost to divine that her life 
would be too short for the task of conquer-, 
ing all the realms of the mind, she made 
haste to learn. And yet this longing for 
knowledge was not her chief characteristic. 
Her power and her charm lay in her affec- 
tionate disposition, her craving for love, 
and her lavishness in bestowing it. "I long 
for you," the tender-hearted little pet wrote 
to her older cousin, "with the longings of a 
child to embrace you, to fold you in my 



arms." 



16 MARJORIE FLEMING 

So rich and generous a nature as little 
Marjorie's was bound to develop early. The 
warm emotional temperament of her 
father's family, and the intellectual bril- 
liancy of her mother's, the literary atmos- 
phere of her humble home, the everyday 
sights of her native town, the scenes of wood- 
land and shore, and the free conversation of 
servants and other grown-up persons, all had 
their effect on the opening mind, and all got 
curiously reproduced in the little girl's 
moralizings. 

Marjorie's religious training was not neg- 
lected. One of the little souvenirs still pre- 
served is a copy of the Shorter Catechism, 
bearing her name, "Miss Marjory Flem- 
ing," in her own handwriting. The title "A. 
B. C, with the Shorter Catechism," may re- 
call to Scottish readers the thin treatise in 
its orange wrapper which in olden times was 
found in every Presbyterian home. The 
combination of the alphabet and the Cate- 
chism was significant. It indicated that 
whenever the poor infant had mastered the 
A. B. C, it was a stern necessity to wrestle 



MARJORIE FLEMING 17 

with the indispensable theological brochure, 
elaborating such themes as ^Justification" 
and "Effectual Calling." 

The old nurse, Jeanie, already mentioned, 
would seem to have had charge of the theo- 
logical instruction in the Fleming's house- 
hold, and a story is told of how she had to 
contend with a vein of free thought in Mar- 
jorie's brother William. He also must have 
been precocious, for before he was two years 
old — nineteen months is the age stated — he 
is said to have so thoroughly known his cate- 
chism that the nurse used to show him off to 
the officers of a militia regiment then quar- 
tered in the town. She took great pride in 
his acquirements, and the performance was 
so amusing to the officers that it was often 
repeated; As a reward they presented the 
infant theologian with a cap and feathers. 
Jeanie put the questions in broad Scots, 
beginning with, "Wha made ye, ma bonnie 
man?" For the correctness of this and the 
three next replies Jeanie had no anxiety, 
but her tone changed to menace and the 
closed "nieve" was shaken in the child's face 



18 MARJORIE FLEMING 

as she demanded, "Of what are you made?" 
"Dirt," was the answer uniformly given. 
"Wull ye never learn to say 'dust/ ye thrawn 
deevil?" was the nurse's demand, as she pro- 
ceeded to punish the little heretic. 

Both Mr. and Mrs. Fleming were fond of 
I books, and instilled the same love into their 
children. Mrs. Fleming not only taught 
them to read, but guided them in their 
choice of reading. Mr. Fleming had a well- 
stocked library, and when the children per- 
formed well their daily tasks, he rewarded 
them by reading aloud extracts from the best 
authors. Marjorie's favorite books were 
histories and poetical works. Her vivid 
imagination liked to picture the persons and 
doings of ancient Hebrew and Scottish 
kings, and she delighted in the lofty lan- 
guage of the poets. Her literary tastes were 
encouraged by her parents. At any rate she 
was allowed free access to any books she had 
a mind to read, and she not only read them, 
but committed long passages to memory. 
These explorations in the realm of literature 
were found very delightful. But in other 



MARJORIE FLEMING 19 

directions her education was less complete. 
She never liked arithmetic, and though she 
made some progress in pianoforte playing, 
she displayed no great fondness for music. 

There was little choice of literature for 
young people in Marjorie's day. It has been 
stated by some writer that she never knew 
any books except those intended for grown- 
up people, but this is an exaggeration. Two 
of the interesting souvenirs of the little maid 
are books published for juvenile readers. 
One of these books bears a quaint title char- 
acteristic of the period, Adventures of a 
Whipping Top, Illustrated, with Stories of 
many bad Boys who themselves deserve 
whipping, and of some good Boys who de- 
serve plumcakes, and many antique little 
wood-cuts adorn the yellow pages. The 
other book bears the title, Original Stories 
From Real Life, with Conversations Cal- 
culated to regulate the affections and form 
the mind to Truth and Goodness. 

This little handbook must have made 
some impression on our Maidie, for she was 
always battling to "regulate her affections," 




20 



MARJORIE FLEMING 21 

though the task was usually too much for 
her. 

Such were the children's books available 
in Pet Marjorie's day. No wonder that the 
poor wee mite, with her eager, active mind, 
turned from such puerile stuff to gems of 
English literature, which, though rather be- 
yond her mental grasp, were at any rate real 
and rational. 

The turning point of Marjorie's life, if a 
life so short and so simple can be said to have 
had a turning point, was the visit of her 
cousin, Isabella Keith, from Edinburgh, an 
event which took place in the summer of 
1808, just when Maidie was five and a half 
years old. The young lady from the city 
had much to tell of life in the great world 
beyond the Firth of Forth, but she had also 
much to admire in the little Kirkcaldy 
cousin, whose knowledge of books, impetu- 
ous temperament, and loving disposition, 
rather impressed her. A sincere affection 
sprang up between these two. Isabella 
Keith was exceedingly fond of Marjorie, 



22 MARJORIE FLEMING 

and she on her part almost worshiped her 
cousin Isa. 

The friendship of the two girls and the 
educational advantages which the step 
would secure for Marjorie, suggested the 
arrangement that she should accompany her 
cousin back to Edinburgh. The circum- 
stances of the Fleming family at the time, 
and the fact that Mr. Fleming's brother, the 
Parish minister, had two years before left 
Kirkcaldy to take charge of the important 
Parish of Lady Yester's, in Edinburgh, all 
helped to recommend the proposal. With 
natural reluctance Marjorie's parents con- 
sented to let her leave them, and one sum- 
mer morning from the top of the stage coach 
she bade farewell to the familiar scenes of 
her childhood. The short three-mile jour- 
ney from Kirkcaldy to Kinghorn was 
quickly over, and the two girls then crossed 
the Firth to Leith, a short sea voyage of 
seven or eight miles. 

Mrs. Keith's house in Edinburgh was at 
No. i Charlotte Street and Charlotte 
Square appears to have been a playground 



MARJORIE FLEMING 23 

for the children. In the large city mansion 
the kindliness of her aunt and the love of 
her own Isa made Marjorie feel at home. 
There was a numerous family, but all were 
older than Marjorie, and apparently of a 
more repressed temperament. 

Marjorie was quite happy among her new 
friends, but lest she should feel homesick, 
her sister in Kirkcaldy wrote her several 
letters giving the news of home. The Pet's 
own handwriting was never good, and she 
hated the drudgery of learning. Neverthe- 
less, she was induced to write a letter in 
reply to her sister's messages. The child was 
not yet six years old, and her large handwrit- 
ing filled a page with ten words or so. But 
it is a characteristic and forceful epistle: 

"My Dear Isa — 

"I now sit down on my botom to answer 
all your kind and beloved letters which you 
was so so good as to write to me. This is 
the first time I ever wrote a letter in my 
Life. 

"There are a great number of Girls in the 



24 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Square and they cry just like a pig when we 
are under the painfull necessity of putting it 
to Death. 

"Miss Potune a lady of my acquaintance, 
praises me dreadfully. I repeated something 
out of Deen Swift and she said I was fit for 
the stage, and you may think I was primmed 
up with majestick Pride, but upon my word 
I felt myselfe turn a little birsay — birsay is 
a word which is a word that William com- 
posed which is as you may suppose a little 
enraged. This horid fat Simpliton says that 
my Aunt is beautifull which is intirely im- 
possible for that is not her nature." 

Marjorie was fortunate in her teachers — 
first her mother and then her cousin, who, 
though not yet out of her teens, was a guide 
and guardian to this little Fifeshire maiden. 
Isa Keith, finding Marjorie's handwriting 
backward, encouraged her to take greater 
pains, and with this object gave her a jour- 
nal in which to write from time to time such 
thoughts as came into her wise little head. 
This was the first of quite a series of diaries 






MARJORIE FLEMING 25 

which were afterwards prized by Marjorie's 
friends because of the pungency of their con- 
tents no less than their love for the writer. 
That these rude manuscripts have long since 
disappeared is a misfortune which all who 
have come to love Pet Marjorie will join 
in regretting. What would we not give to 
be able to examine Marjorie's own childish 
writing, and what Dr. John Brown, in his 
paper on Marjorie Fleming, described as 
"the faded old scraps of paper, hoarded 
still, over which her warm breast and warm 
little heart poured themselves"? 

Happily for us, Dr. Brown had the manu- 
scripts lent to him by Marjorie's sister, and 
before returning them he made a complete 
copy of them — a copy which is almost a fac- 
simile, for it reproduces not only Marjorie's 
vagaries of spelling, but her erasures and 
corrections, Isa Keith's marks against mis- 
spelled words, and in some cases her re- 
bukes, thus — Tomson' S |^ It shows that on the 
second page of her journal poor Marjorie 
came to grief over the spelling of Episco- 




26 



MARJORIE FLEMING 27 

palian and Presbyterian, which she could 
not get to come right. She tried "Pisplic- 
can," but that did not look well, and so she 
drew her pen through it and rewrote it "Pis- 
plikan." This was no better, but she did 
not know how to improve it, and so she went 
on to face Presbyterian which she disposed 
of thus — "Prisbeteren." Her cousin was 
shocked by these enormities, and across the 
face of the opposite page she wrote in bold 
letters the condemnation — "Careless Mar- 
jory!" 

The very first page of the manuscript in- 
cludes examples of the chief characteristics 
of the whole collection — hesitating penman- 
ship, erratic spelling, moral sentiments, ap- 
preciation of the goodness of Isabella, 
thoughts about love, the personality of the 
"Divil," and a fondness for books. But we 
shall no longer withhold Maidie's writings, 
nor shall we interrupt our readers' enjoy- 
ment of them by explanation or observa- 
tion. 

"[We should] not be happy at the death 



28 MARJORIE FLEMING 

of our fellow creatures, for they love life 
like us love your neighbour & and he will 
love you Bountifullness and Mercifulness 
are always rewarded, Isabella has admirable 
patience in teaching me musick and resigna- 
tion in perfection. In my travels I met with 
a handsome lad named Charles Balfour 
Esge, and from him I [g]ot ofers of marage 
offers of marage did I say? nay plainly 
[love]d me. Goodness does not belong [to 
the wicked] but badness dishonour befals 
wickedness but not virtue, no disgrace befals 
virtue perciverence overcomes almost all 
difficulties no I am rong in saying almost I 
should say always as it is so perciverence is 
a virtue my Csosin says pacience is a cris- 
tain virtue, which is true: fortitude is of 
use in time of distress, & indeed it is always 
of use, mamy people have su[pped] in mes- 
ery & have not had fortitude & [courage] 

to suppress there 

"The Divil [is] curced & and all his 
works Tis a fine book Newton on the profe- 
cies. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 29 

"[I wonder if] anothor book of poems 
comes near the bible; The Divel always 
grins at the sight of the bibles; bibles did I 
say? nay at the word virtue. I should like 
to learn Astronomy and Geography; Miss 
Potune is very fat she pretends to be very 
learned she says she saw a stone that dropt 
from the skies, but she is a good christian 
An annibabtist is a thing I am not a member 
of; I am a Pisplikan just now & a Prisbe- 
teren at Kercaldy my native town which 
though dirty is clein in the country; senti- 
ment is what I am not acquainted with 
though I wish it & should like to pratise it 
I wish I had a great deal of gratitude in my 
heart & in all my body The English have 
great power over the f ranch; Ah me perad- 
venture, at this moment some noble Colnel 
at this moment sinks to the ground without 
breath; — & in convulsive pangs dies; it is a 
melancoly consideration 

"Love I think is in the fasion for every- 
body is marring there is a new novel pub- 
lished named Self-controul a very good 
maxam forsooth Yesterday a marrade man 



30 MARJORIE FLEMING 

named Mr John Balfour Esg offered to 
kiss me, & offered to marry me though the 
man was espused, & and his wife was pres- 
ent & said he must ask her permision but he 
did not, I think he was ashamed or con- 
founded before 3 gentelman Mr Jobson and 
two Mr Kings Isabella teaches me to read 
my bible & tells me to be good and say my 
prayers, and every thing that is nesary for a 
good caracter and a a good concience. 

" 'Composed and written at the age of six years. 7 - — 

[Isa Keith] 

"EPHIBOL ON MY DEAR LOVE ISABELLA." 

' "Here lies sweet Isabell in bed 
With a nightcap on her head 
Her skin is soft her face is fair 
And she has very pretty hair 
She and I in bed lies nice 
And undisturbed by rats and mice 
She is disgusted with Mr. Wurgan 
though he plays upon the organ 
A not of ribans on her head 
Her cheak is tinged with conscious red 



MARJORIE FLEMING 31 

Her head it rests upon a pilly 
And she is not so very silly 
Her nails are neat, her teeth are white 
her eyes are very very bright 
In a conspicuous town she lives 
And to the poor her money gives 
Here ends sweet Isabellas story 
And may it be much to her glory 

"All this is true and a full description. 

"In the love novels all the heroins are 
very desperate Isabella will not allow me 
to speak about lovers & heroins and tiss too 
refined for my taste a lodestone is a curous 
thing indeed it is true Heroick love doth 
[never] win disgrace this is my maxum and 
I will follow it for ever Miss Eguards tails 
are very good particulary some — that are 
very much adopted for youth as Lazy Law- 
rance Tarelton False Key &c &c Persons 
of the parlement house are as I think caled 
Advocakes Mr Cay & Mr Crakey has that 
honour. This has been a % very mild winter. 
Mr Banestors Budjet is to-night I hope it 
will be a good one. A great mamy authors 



32 MARJORIE FLEMING 

have expressed themselfes too sentimentaly 
I am studying what I like, musick Riches, 
Wealth, & Honour are to be desired I have 
seen the Wild Beasts & they are excelent 
particularly the Lion and hunting Tiger 
Elep-phant Bolt-ed and unbolted a door 
& such like wonders but of all the birds I 
admired the Pelecan of the Wilderness 

"My Aunts birds grow every day more 
healthy The Mercandile Afares are in a 
perilous situation sickness and a delicante 
frame I have not & I do not know what it 
is, but Ah me perhaps I shall have it, 
Grandure reagns in London & in Edinburgh 
there are a great many balls and routs but 
none here. The childish distempers are very 
frequent just now. Tomson is a beautifull 
author and Pope but nothing is like Shake- 
pear of which I have a little knolege of An 
unfortunate death James the 5 had for he 
died of greif Macbeth is a pretty composi- 
tion but awful one Macbeth is so bad and 
wicked, but Lady Macbeth is so hardened 
in guilt she does not mind her sins and faults 
No 



MARJORIE FLEMING 33 

"The Newgate Calender is very instruc- 
tive Amusing, & shews us the nesesity of 
doing good & not evil Sorrow is a thing that 
sadines the heart & makes one grave sad 
and melancoly which distreses his relations 
and friends The weather is very mild & 
serene & not like winter, 

"A sailor called here to say farewell, it 
must be dreadfull to leave his native coun- 
try where he might get a wife or perhaps 
me, for I love him very much & with all 
my heart, but O I forgot Isabella forbid me 
to speak about love A great many bals & 
routs are given this winter & the last winter 
too Many people think beuty is better than 
virtue 

"one of our beauties just now, Isabella is 
always reading & writing in her room & 
does not come down for long & I wish every- 
body would follow her example & be as 
good as pious & virtious as she is & they 
would get husbands soon enough, love is a 
papithatick thing as well as troublesom & 
tiresome but O Isabella forbid me to speak 
about it General Grame defeted the 



34 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Franch the Franch prisoners have made a 
tumbling and my cosin says it is very neat 
I heard that they made ccips (? slips) of 
there blankets and bows to make them smart 
and shewy 

"My cosins are sober and well behaved 
and very gentele and meak I study writing 
& counting & deferent accomplishments 
James Macary is to be transported for mur- 
der in the flower of his youth O passion is 
a terible thing for it leads people from sin 
to sin at last it gets so far as to come to 
greater crimes than we thought we could 
comit and it must be dreadful to leave his 
native country and his friends and to be so 
disgraced and affronted The Spectator is a 
very good book as well as an instructive one 
Mr James and Mr John Davidson are gone 
to that capital town called London, Two 
of the Balf ours dined here yesterday and 
Charele§ played on the flute with Isabella 
and they are both very handsome but John 
had the pleasanest expression of them all 
but he is not instrumental which is a great 



MARJORIE FLEMING 35 

loss indeed because it would afford him 
amusement and diversion. 

"There are a great quantity of books sill- 
ing off just now I am come to poor Mary 
'Queen of the Scots history which Isabella 
explains to me and by that I understand it 
all or else I would not Expostulations of all 
kinds are very frivolous Isabella thinks this 
nonsense so I will say no more about Ex- 
postulations The Birds do chirp the Lambs 
do leap and Nature is clothed with the gar- 
ments of green yellow, and white, purple, 
and red. Many people who have money 
squander it all away but to do my cousins 
credit they do not do so or behave so im- 
properly indeed they are not spendthrifts or 
persons of that sort, the Good are always 
rewarded in this world & the next as well as 
the comfort of of there own consciences love 
righteousness and hate evel and vice There 
is a book that is caled the Newgate Calender 
that contains all the Murders: all the Mur- 
ders did I say, nay all Thefts & Forgeries 
that ever were committed & fills me with 
horror & consternation 



36 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"Bredheade is a sweet place & in a charm- 
ing situation beside woods and revelats The 
weather is very cold & frosty & plenty of 
ice on the ground and on the watter Love 
your enemy as your friend and not as your 
foe this is a very windy stormy day and 
looks as if it was going to snow or rain but 
it is only my opinion which is not always 
corect I am reading some noveletts and one 
called the Pidgeon is an exelent one and a 
charming one I think the price of a pine- 
apple is very dear for There it is a whole 
bright goulden geinei that might have sus- 
tained a poor family a whole week and more 
perhaps 

"Let them who are temted to do wrong 
consider what they are about and turn away 
filled with horror dread and affright There 
is an old Proverb which says a tile in time 
saves nine wich is very true indeed Fawny 
Rachel and the Cottage cook are very good 
excelent books and so are all the cheap Re- 
pository books indeed Isabella is gone a 
tour to Melrose Abbey and I think she will 
be much pleased with it & I hear it is a 



MARJORIE FLEMING 37 

very fine old building indeed. In the Nov- 
ellettes by Augustus Von Kot Zebue I have 
paid particular attention to one called the 
Pidgeon because it is a nice and a good 
story The Mr Balfours are gone far far 
away and I will not so much as see or hear 
of them anny more but I will never forget 
them never never 

"I am overpowered with the warmness of 
the day & the warmness of the fire & it is 
altogether unsufiferable though there is a 
good deal of wind 

"Exodus & Genesis are two very good 
books as all the bible is I am sure of it in- 
deed I like the old testament better than the 
new but the new is far more instructive than 
the old. 

"The hedges are spruting like chiks from 
the eggs when they are newly hatched or as 
the vulgar say clacked 

"I pretended to write to a lord yesterday 
named Lord Roseberry about killing crows 
& rooks that inhabit his castle or estate but 
we should excuse My Lord for his foolish- 



38 MARJORIE FLEMING 

ness for as people think I think Too for 
people think he is a little derangeed 
"My address to Isabella on her return, 
"Dear Isabella you are a true lover of 
nature thou layest down thy head like the 
meak mountain lamb who draws its last sob 
by the side of its dam taken from hill Vil- 
lean a poem by Walter Scott & a most beau- 
tiful one it is indeed this address I com- 
posed myself and nobody assisted me I am 
sure I get acquainted with boys and girls 
almost every day wickedness and vice 
makes one miserable & unhappy as well as 
a concousness of guilt on our mind Doctor 
Swifts works are very funny & amusing & 
I get some by hart Vanity is a great folly 
& sometimes leads to a great sin disinfla- 
tion I think is worse this was a bad day but 
now is a good one Self-denial is a good 
thing and a virtue. St Paul was remakable 
for his religion and piety he was in a great 
many periels & dangers 

"Many people that are pretty are very 
vain and conceated men praise and admire 
her, & some finds their heart ake because of 



MARJORIE FLEMING 39 

her asks her to marry him and dies if she 
refuses him but is overpowered with joy if 
she consents to marry him Wallfler grows 
very well I think so at least Mereheads 
Sermons are I hear much praised but I 
never read sermons of any kind but I read 
Novelettes and my bible for I never forget 
it and it it would be a sin to forget it or 
my prayers either of them 
the barracks and we will perhaps be saccri- 
fised to death and the grave but soulders are 
in serch for them & peradventure they will 
be found I sencerely wish so. 

"The Earl of Biican says we should take 
care of our character & our health poor 
Virtue thou art what people like O virtue! 
Meat is very dear nowadays People should 
not be proud nor saucy nor vain for vanity 
is a sin All the King Jamess died mesir- 
able deaths one of grief e, another murdered, 
but Lord Darnlys was the most cruel 

"Mary Queen of Scots was a prisoner in 
Lochleven Castle The Casawary is an curi- 
ous bird & so is the Gigantic Crane & the 
Pelican of the Wilderness whose mouth 



4 o MARJORIE FLEMING 

holds a bucket of fish and water Fighting 
is what ladies is not qualyfied for they would 
not make a good figure in battle nor in a 
dual Alas we females are of little use to our 
country & to our friends, I remember to 
have read about a lady who dressed her- 
self in man's cloths to fight for her father, 
woman are not half so brave as her, but it 
is only a story out of Mothers Gooses Fary 
tales so I do not give it cridit, that is to say 
I do not believe the truth of it but it matters 
little or nothing Last night it was very cold 
but this morning it is very warm it is an 
extraordinary change The history of all the 
Malcontents that ever was hanged is very 
amusing I have read some of these larned 
men but they got there reward in due form 

"Isabella this morning taught me some 
Franch words one of which is bon suar the 
interpretation is good morning. 

"I like sermons better than lectures Joy 
depends on thou O virtue Tom Jones & 
Greys Elegey in a country churchyard are 
both excelent and much spoke of by both 
sex particularly by the men. Personal 



MARJORIE FLEMING 41 

charms are as nothing if the hart is not good 
& virtuous. A person may be pretty & not 
good & dutiful to her parents, 

"Mary Queen of Scots confedrats or 
friends was defeated, Murys and his asso- 
ciats & they thought she was safe in the 
castle when she effected her escape, by a 
young boy named Gorge Duglas ; 

"People who steal & murder bring eternal 
damnation in the next world upon them- 
selves as well as unhappiness in this world. 
Adam & Eve dissabayed God The scarlet 
fefer is like a plague just now 

"God is the creator of us all and we 
should serve honour and obey him. Isabella 
has often told me that if people do not check 
their passion when they are young it will 
grow worse and worse when they are old so 
that nobody will love them or obey them 
Isabella is greived when I behave ill but 
when I behave well she kisses and careses 
me and she kissed me to day because I be- 
haved well God is kind and indulgent to us 
which we do not deserve for we are sinful 
creaturs & do not deserve to be so kindly 



42 MARJORIE FLEMING 

treated but god does not do so. Though we 
praay in publick that should not hinder us 
from private prayer If any mans wife 
marry another when her husband is yet alive 
everybody will hate her & she shall 
be the object of there deristion & there dis- 
gust. The wicked are envious of the good 
& just & in there mind plot his distruction 
but the Lord does not leave him unpunished 
for if he is not punished in this world he will 
be punished in the next & a mo t terrible 
punishment it will be Macary is not yet 
transported it must be a dreadful thing 
transportation God Almighty Knows every 
thing that we do or say & he can Kill you in 
a moment Bishop Sandford excels Mr. 
James in preaching Lying is the high road 
to theft and murder King John is a beau- 
tiful play & so is Richard the 3 I never saw 
a play acted in my life. Any body that does 
not do well are very miserable & unhappy & 
not contented 

With this curious anti-climax Marjorie 
completed her first journal the writing of 



MARJORIE FLEMING 43 

which occupied many a half-hour during 
her first winter in Edinburgh, or the first 
weeks and months of 1809, when she had 
just passed her sixth birthday. 

We catch in these writings occasional 
glimpses of passing events, such as the prev- 
alence of children's ailments culminating in 
an epidemic of scarlet fever, the dances and 
other gaieties of the season, the mildness of 
the winter, the commercial troubles, the 
dearness of food, the growing coldness of 
the weather as the spring advanced, the sud- 
den change to warm sunshine, and the con- 
sequent rapid growth of vegetation. Not 
the least interesting are the frequent re- 
marks which remind us that Britain was 
then at war with France. Of the occupa- 
tions and amusements of the French pris- 
oners in Edinburgh Castle alluded to by 
Marjorie, a fuller description is given in 
R. L. Stevenson's story, St. Ives. That novel 
narrates how certain of their number 
escaped, and Marjorie also mentions an in- 
cident of the kind, and (no doubt repeating 
the gossip of the women folk) expresses the 



44 MARJORIE FLEMING 

fear that the runaways might commit out- 
rages, and peaceful people might be "sacri- 
ficed to death." . Looking further afield, 
Marjorie refers to the conduct of the war in 
general, the superiority of the English (of 
course), and the victory of General Gra- 
ham, and in a poetic outburst describes a 
death in battle. In the later journals we lose 
sight of the war entirely, but here it is par- 
ticularly prominent. Marjorie gravely 
laments that her own sex can have no share 
in martial glory, and our sweet little six- 
year-old is debarred from sharing even in a 
humble "dual." All she can do is to learn 
a few French words, whose "interpretation" 
is not very exact. 

When Marjorie began her journal she 
was told that, while striving to improve in 
penmanship, she was to write down such 
moral sentiments as ought to adorn the mind 
of a well-trained little girl. Hence the early 
prominence of obvious platitudes, relieved 
from dullness only by their vehemence as 
when the young moralist lays down the 
thesis that "lying is the highroad to theft 



MARJORIE FLEMING 45 

and murder." As we proceed we find more 
numerous traces of opinions caught from 
older people. In the observations on the 
cost of a pine-apple, for example, one can 
almost hear the tones of some lady who "had 
a frugal mind" — the delicacy cost a whole 
bright "goulden" guinea, which might have 
"sustained" a poor family for a whole week, 
and "there it is!" But possibly Marjorie 
meant to rewrite "here it is," etc. Of course 
the child is constantly getting beyond her 
depth, as in the naive description of the fate 
of the female bigamist, but childish inno- 
cence is secure amid every peril. Even her 
remarks about the "Divil" who is "curced 
and all his works," do not tinge her cheek 
with what she calls "conscious red." 

The improvement of her mind was placed 
before Marjorie Fleming as a serious duty 
and she faced it nobly; nor did she forget 
her Bible and her prayers, and "every thing 
nesary for a good caracter and a good con- 



cience." 



Very early in 1809, Marjorie's guide and 
friend, Isa Keith, went away for a little tour 



46 MARJORIE FLEMING 

to the South of Scotland, visiting Melrose 
Abbey, beloved of their friend, Walter 
Scott In her absence Marjorie loyally 
continued her course of education, and when 
Isa returned the little learner received her 
with rejoicing and a poetic address. Love, 
as rightful prince of all the emotions, was 
the first to open the poet's treasury; it was 
her devotion to her cousin that made Mar- 
jorie's glowing thoughts flower into song. 
The lines on "Isabell in Bed" are sufficiently 
striking as the work of a girl of six years old, 
who was just learning to write; but, of 
course, its charm for us lies in its sweet sim- 
plicity and its fragrance of a human mind 
in the bud. The appendix, "all this is true 
and a full description" is evidence that Mar- 
jorie was not thinking so much of artistic 
treatment of jier subject as the need to do it 
complete justice, omitting nothing from the 
picture, which must be a careful and true 
"description." Marjorie was simply pos- 
sessed by Isa Keith. "My cousin says" is 
one of her favorite formulas. Almost the 
first sentence in the journal is a recognition 



MARJORIE FLEMING 47 

of Isa's "admirable pacience" in her self- 
imposed task as governess. This note of 
gratitude is struck again and again through- 
out the journals, and more than any other 
reveals the real depth of Marjorie's nature. 
Had she been less grateful she would have 
been more shallow. 

Madgie's little love affairs with the other 
sex appear to have brought her on the whole 
more pain than pleasure. First we have 
Charles Balfour, "a handsome lad" who 
wooed her and actually proposed; and on 
the very next page John Balfour, evidently 
the former lover's brother, offers to kiss and 
marry her, though, as she indignantly re- 
cords, "the man was espused," and his wife 
was present, and said "he must ask her per- 
mission," but he did not! Happily for the 
credit of human nature the bold bad man 
appeared to be "ashamed and confounded" 
before "Mr Jobson and two Mr Kings," but 
we gather that had these been absent he 
would not have been in the least abashed by 
the presence of his wife. One is relieved to 
find that after all the atrocity did not result 



48 MARJORIE FLEMING 

in any permanent ill-feeling, for on a sub- 
sequent page we discover these same Messrs. 
Balfour assisting at a musical evening in 
which Isa Keith is one of the chief per- 
formers, and Marjorie a delighted listener. 
Not a thought of rivalry between the men, 
not a word of regret for the apparently 
absent wife, and not a hint of reproach from 
Marjorie for the past affront. Instead we 
find her sympathizing with Mr. John Bal- 
four because he was "not instrumental," for 
she thought, "marrade man" as he was, that 
he required some "diversion." Still later we 
read that the two gentlemen are going far 
far away, where Marjorie will never see 
them again — and the relenting lady writes, , 
"but I will never forget them — never, 



never." 



In spite of all prohibitions from Isabella, 
who was evidently a model young lady, 
Marjorie was constantly yielding to the 
promptings of a heart too prone to love. 
Does she see a lonely sailor-man about to 
"leave his native country"? She at once 
imagines how much more comfortable it 



MARJORIE FLEMING 49 

would be for the hapless wanderer to re- 
main at home and get a wife, "or perhaps 
me, for I love him very much." Then, like 
a thunder-clap, the voice of accusing con- 
science sounds in her ear, and Marjorie 
humbly finishes, "But, O, I forgot! Isabella 
forbid me to speak about love." Yes, but 
love laughs at prohibitions. Its mystery and 
subtle influence are too alluring; the young 
mind cannot away from it. "Love," says 
Marjorie, "is a very papithatick thing," and 
she gives a description of the course of the 
disease. When there is a beauty "some find 
their heart ake because of her"; if she re- 
fuses to marry him, he dies ; if she consents, 
"he is overpowered with joy." Having dis- 
posed of the matter thus, Marjorie turns to 
the cultivation of wallflowers. 

It is always interesting to watch children 
trying to wield the words of the adult world, 
much as a new apprentice wields the trades- 
man's tools with a kind of amateur origin- 
ality. But no one ever produced quainter 
effects with common English words than 
does our Maidie. She vividly pictures a 



50 MARJORIE FLEMING 

wounded officer dying convulsively on the 
field, and concludes "it is a melancholy 
consideration !" Quite obviously Marjorie is 
sometimes willing, as many children are, to 
use the words first and find out their proper 
use afterwards. Looking as wise as she 
knew how, she wrote "Expostulations of all 
kinds are very frivolous." Isa Keith hap- 
pened to look over her shoulder and natur- 
ally remarked that this was nonsense. What 
did Marjorie think she was saying? Did 
she employ the word in place of ejaculations 
or explanations? Or did she simply use it 
without attaching any meaning to it at all? 
Children sometimes do such things. The 
word is at first quite empty, but it becomes 
filled with a mental content in the using. 
Often they attach to it a conception which is 
not exactly the customary meaning, as when 
Marjorie says we should turn from wicked- 
ness "with horror and consternation," or 
"with horror, dread, and affright." Some- 
times the meaning is clearly wrong, as when 
she says the history of all the malcontents 
that ever were hanged is very "amusing." 



MARJORIE FLEMING 51 

Once at least she even coins a new word — 
her "Ephibol," that is, her "epitaph" or 
"eulogium" on her cousin. 

It is through sheer inexperience in tie use 
of words that Marjorie is sometimes so sar- 
castic. When she tells us that Miss Potune 
pretended to have seen a stone that dropped 
from the skies, "but she is a good Christian," 
Marjorie really means to soften our con- 
demnation of what seems to be a plain false- 
hood. Again, when she states that Kirk- 
caldy, her native town, though dirty, is clean 
in the country, she is honestly doing her best 
to save its reputation. 

Mental alertness always characterizes 
Marjorie's sentences. No sooner has she 
made a statement than she invariably exam- 
ines it all round to see how it looks, and if 
it does not bear inspection she instantly ex- 
claims — "No, I am rong." One of the best 
examples of her mental balancing is : her 
treatment of a story from Mother Goose's 
Fairy Tales. At her age she ought to re- 
ceive any story from a printed book as abso- 
lutely infallible, but she hesitates — "It is 



52 MARJORIE FLEMING 

only a story out of Mother Goose's Fary 
Tales so I do not give it cridit;" that sounds 
harsh, and she hastens to explain "that is to 
say I do not believe the truth of it," but as 
this does not appear to be much better she 
dismisses the subject with the non-committal 
"but it matters little or nothing." Occas- 
ionally when stating a fact she can be as 
painfully precise regarding the possibility 
of her being mistaken as the late Mr. Glad- 
stone often was. She writes, "Wallfler grows 
well — I think so at least." "It looks as if it 
was going to snow or — rain — but it is only 
my opinion, which is not always corect." 

During her stay in Edinburgh Marjorie 
did not attend the ministrations of her uncle 
in Lady Yester's Church. She accompanied 
her friends the Keiths to the Episcopal 
Church, for as she explains she was a Pres- 
byterian in Kirkcaldy but an Episcopalian 
in Edinburgh. 

Let no one do our Marjorie the injustice 
of classing her as a pale, precocious child, 
for she had none of the pertness and preter- 
natural smartness of that species. She was 



MARJORIE FLEMING 53 

on the contrary a healthy, warm-blooded, 
happy, humorous, little girl. Even her love 
for books contained elements of eagerness 
and gladness. Her Bible she loved not only 
because Isa Keith told her that it was her 
duty to do so, but because of the keen liter- 
ary enjoyment its pages afforded her. Its 
poetical language and its picturesque nar- 
ratives were equally to her taste. With evi- 
dent misgiving she confessed that she liked 
the Old Testament better than the New, but 
this was plainly unorthodox, and the little 
trimmer, unwilling to hurt any one's feel- 
ings, added that the New was more "in- 
structive." The only great figure in the New 
Testament that caught her childish fancy 
was that of St. Paul who was in Madgie's 
opinion "remarkable for his religion and 
piety" and what was more interesting for his 
dangers and "periels." But in the Old Tes- 
tament the narratives of Genesis and Ex- 
odus, Esther and Job, with their dramatic 
scenes, gratified her love of the marvelous. 
Job's boils so filled her mind that she would 
not have been surprised to find her own little 



54 MARJORIE FLEMING 

body some morning covered with a similar 
eruption, the work of "Satan." It might 
have soothed the patriarch had he foreseen 
that, though he received scant sympathy 
from his dearest friends and from the wife 
of his bosom, there waited for him at the end 
of the years the plentiful commiseration of 
a little Scotch lass ! Of other religious books 
read by Marjorie at this time she mentions 
but one. Morehead's sermons she was con- 
tent to know by hearsay, but Sir Isaac New- 
ton's Observations Upon the Prophecies 
suited her childish sense of wonder, for the 
philosopher brought to it resources of learn- 
ing and powers of imagination whose results 
were impressive. As a relief from sermons 
and moral reflections one could not have 
thought of anything more thorough than the 
Newgate Calendar, and we can only wonder 
how it came into Marjorie's hands — prob- 
ably not with the connivance of Miss Keith. 
Its lurid records, bearing the stamp of real- 
ity, left their mark on Marjorie's receptive 
mind, for she refers to the book again and 
again, but we may be sure it did her no real 



MARJORIE FLEMING 55 

harm. True, she says it filled her "with 
horror and consternation," but she probably 
rather liked the sensation. Addison's Spec- 
tator supplied safer if less stimulating read- 
ing, and Marjorie adjudges it "instructive." 
For Dean Swift's works she had still warmer 
praise, and she did that great author the 
honor of committing to memory passages 
from his works. 

Marjorie had a wide range of fiction on 
which to feast her growing mind. Mother 
Goose's Fairy Tales were clearly outgrown, 
but there seems to have been a good selection 
of stories in the Repository, which may have 
been an institution for disseminating litera- 
ture supposed to be of an improving kind or 
it may possibly have been The Children's 
Magazine, or the Monthly Repository of In- 
struction and Delight, a periodical which 
began to be published in 1799 and extended 
to two volumes. Fielding's story of Tom 
Jones naturally did not suit Marjorie's 
taste so much as The Pigeon of Augustus 
Frederich Von Kotzebue, a romantic Ger- 
man writer whose works were then in great 



56 MARJORIE FLEMING 

request. Into the dim region of emotion 
and sentiment opened in these books Mar- 
jorie peered wistfully. "Sentiment," she 
wrote, "is not what I am acquainted with 
yet, though I wish it." But her favorite 
author at this period of her life was Miss 
Edgeworth, and that writer's tale of Lazy 
Lawrence, still in circulation and still popu- 
lar seems to have pleased our little critic. 
Miss Edgeworth's story Self-Control, whose 
title impressed Marjorie as describing what 
she needed most, was published that very 
year anonymously, the demand for it being 
so great that the edition was exhausted in a 
month. The story is rather stilted in style, 
but shows ability in delineation of character. 
At six years of age Marjorie began a sys- 
tematic study of history, selecting for subject 
her beloved Scotland, and in particular 
Mary Queen of Scots, whose life-story, as 
Marjorie tells us, with reckless grammar 
but perfect lucidity, "Isabella explained to 
me, and by that I understand it all, or else 
I would not." The fruit of this study awaits 
us in a later journal. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 57 

Marjorie was in love with all the poets. 
Even in this early copy-book she records her 
appreciation of Shakespeare, Pope, Gray, 
Thomson, and Wordsworth. Of Shake- 
speare she says she had only "a little knol- 
ege," but she could repeat passages by heart. 
She was familiar with the plot and leading 
characters of Macbeth, and she had read 
King John and Richard III., so that her 
knowledge of the great classic was not more 
limited than that of the average adult citi- 
zen. The early works of Walter Scott, as a 
friend of the family — a near neighbor and 
a frequent visitor in the house of her aunt, 
were naturally familiar to her. But none of 
them is familiar to us as "hill Villean," and 
it takes an effort to discover Helvellyn. 
Maidie had a perfect genius for bad spell- 
ing. She never quite conquered Helvellyn, 
much as she loved the verses, for in one of 
her last letters she writes down "hill Va- 
lein!" At first sight it is difficult to follow 
the thread of her thoughts in connecting her 
cousin with Scott's little poem, but the cue 
is to be found in her favorite description of 



58 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Isa as a "gentle lover of nature," and this at 
once suggests the picture painted by the 
poet: 

But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature, 
To lay down thy head like the meek 
mountain lamb, 
When wildered he drops through the cliff, 
huge of stature, 
And draws his last sob by the side of his 
dam. 

In the meantime Marjorie's general 
knowledge was extending. A visit to a 
menagerie enabled her to see specimens of 
the more remarkable wild animals she had 
read about. Her mind was observant of the 
wonders of the world around her, and she 
liked what she called curiosities. It is true 
she rejected with scorn Miss Potune's state- 
ment regarding falling aerolites, but she was 
constrained to admit the mysterious power 
of the magnet. Nature anim'ate and inani- 
mate, filled her soul with unmixed delight. 
The singing birds, the skipping lambs, the 
frisking calf, the glorious colors of the land- 



MARJORIE FLEMING 59 

scape, the beauty of the varied shades of 
green in the hedgerows — all these were to 
Marjorie a continual joy. She was, as she 
acknowledges, a healthy girl. "Sickness and 
a delicate frame I have not, and I do not 
know what it is," and although some dim 
premonition compelled her to add, "but, Ah 
me! perhaps I shall have it," she was at this 
period exceedingly happy. Above all the 
loving child rested with a great content in 
the affection of her cousin Isa, whose kisses 
and caresses so lovingly bestowed, made life 
for our Maidie very sweet. 

The following letter addressed by Mar- 
jorie to her mother was written early in 
1809, just after she came six years of age, a 
fact which she proudly chronicles — 

"My Dear Mud, 

"I hope you are well : give my love to Isa 
and Baby, and I will send them something. 
I have been often at Ravelstone and once at 
Aunt Fleming and Mrs Miller. I've been 
acquainted with many very genteel girls, 
and Janetta is a very fine one. Help is been 



60 MARJORIE FLEMING 

confined another time. My sleeves is tucked 
up, and it was very disagreeable, my collar, 
and I abhorred it amoniable. 

"I saw the most prettyist two tame 
pidgeons you ever saw and two very wee 
small kittens like our cat. 

"I am very much acquainted with a young 
gentleman called Mordecai that I am quite 
in love with, another called Captain Bell, 
and Jamie Keith, and Willie's my great tor- 
mentor. 

"A good-natured girl gave me a song 
book, and I am very happy. 

"I'll go down and be thinking when I'm 
eating my dinner more to tell you, Mud." 



"Aunt has got two of the most beautiful- 
lest Turtle Doves you ever saw. They coo 
for everlasting and fight. The hawk is in 
great spirits', it is a nice beast, the gentlest 
animal that ever was Seen, Six canaries, two 
green linnets, and a Thrush. 

"Isa has been away for a long time and 
I've been wearying for her Sadly. I like Isa 
and Nan very much. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 61 

"I play in the back green, and bring in 
worms for the thrush. 

"I've done a pair of garters for Isabella 
but one of them is too Short. I will work it 
larger and work some for Nancy too. 

"I get very long tasks, and when I behave 
I get them short. 

"Orme Keir is the greatest recovery ever 
was, and he's thinking about business. 

"My aunt lets out the Birds to get the air 
in her room. 

"The young gentleman I was speaking of 
Mordecai, he's very funny. 

"James Keith hardly ever Spoke to me. he 
said, Girl! make less noise, and, when there 
was a storm sometimes said take out away 
all your iron, and once before he said, 
Madgie, go and dance, which I was very 
proud of. 

"Mind my Dear Mud, to return this let- 
ter when you return Isabella's. 

"I've forgot to say, but I've four lovers, 
the other one is Harry Watson, a very de- 
lightful boy. 



62 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"Help is very like a tiger when he bites 
his fleas, a fine, gentle, wise creetyur. 

"Willie was at the Moors, but he soon 
came back again, for the Moors was like a 
fish pond like Miss Whyts. 

"I've Slept with Isabella but she cannot 
Sleep with me. I'm so very restless. I 
danced over her legs in the morning and she 
cried Oh dear you mad Girl, Madgie, for 
she was sleepy. 

"The whole house plagues me about 
'Come haste to the wedding,' for there is no 
sense in it; they think, because it is an Meri : 
can, Eliza Purves taught me, they plague 
me about it exceeding much. I'm affronted 
to say it, it is so awkward. 

"Remember your dear Madgie. 

"Amen. 

"Finis. 

"M. F. Six years old." 

The "Baby" of this letter was the little 
sister Elizabeth, who had arrived shortly 
after Madgie had left, and to whom she 
readily sent this loving welcome. Aunt 



MARJORIE FLEMING 63 

Fleming was, of course, the wife of the min- 
ister, of whom we hear but little. Orme 
Keir was Marjorie's cousin, the son of her 
Aunt Elizabeth, whose husband, Dr. Keir, 
Wester Rynd, Perthshire, had died some 
years previously. Mrs. Keir was resident 
in Edinburgh and her son was old enough 
to be in business, and just recovering from 
an illness. 

Madgie cannot live without lovers, and 
she proudly makes up for her mother a list 
of four, only we gather that one of them, her 
cousin, James Keith, hardly ever spoke to 
her. One name on the list is that of Harry 
George Watson, a "delightful boy," and the 
future founder of the Chair of Fine Arts in 
the University of Edinburgh. 

If there was one person more essential to 
out Pet than even lovers it was Isa Keith, 
whose name was never absent from any writ- 
ing of Marjorie's. Isa was now from home, 
making the visit to Melrose already alluded 
to, and Madgie was "wearying for her sad- 
ly." 

Animals were as dear to Marjorie's large 



64 MARJORIE FLEMING 

heart as human beings, and whenever she 
went she made a list of the "fine, wise gentle 
creetyers" that lived there, be they bird or 
beast At Charlotte Street there appears to 
have been a fair collection — 2 kittens, 2 
turtle doves "that coo for everlasting and 
fight" ; a hawk, the gentlest animal that ever 
was seen; 6 canaries, 2 green linnets, a 
thrush, and the doggie "Help." Marjorie 
was very happy. 

She was keen-witted too, for if the taci- 
turn James addressed but few words to her, 
she was taking mental note of him, as of 
everything else around her, with an observ- 
ant, amused, and loving eye. No wonder if, 
thus distracted, she made one of the garters 
too short for Miss Craufurd, and still less 
wonder if so lively a little girl could not 
sleep long in the mornings, but danced over 
Isa's legs like a mad little Madgie that she 
was. 

It was near the end of summer that Mar- 
jorie got a new journal wherein to continue 
her writing lessons and the record of her 
thoughts. She had been spending the sum- 



MARJORIE FLEMING 65 

mer at Braehead, and the new journal was 
dated "Braehead" in Miss Keith's hand- 
writing. Braehead is mentioned in Mar- 
jorie's first journal, and it now filled a large 
space in her life. The place lies just to the 
north of Cramond Bridge, and our Pet's 
description is accurate — "A sweet place in a 
charming situation, beside woods and rivu- 
lets." 

In the days of James V., Braehead was the 
scene of a memorable struggle. That gallant 
masquerading monarch was set upon by a 
band of gypsies near Cramond Bridge, and 
would have fared badly but for the timeous 
arrival of Jock Howison, who with his 
flail chased them off. As reward his de- 
scendants have occupied the farm of Brae- 
head to this day on the sole condition that 
they be ready to offer to the king a ewer of 
water in which to wash his hands. In Mar- 
jorie's day the owner was Mrs. Craufurd, 
and the Craufurds were on the friendliest 
terms with Marjorie's cousins, the Keiths. 
Just about this time the friendship resulted 
in a marriage between William Keith, an 



66 MARJORIE FLEMING 

elder brother of Isa's and Isabella, daughter 
of Mrs. Craufurd. 

A short distance to the west of Braehead 
spread out the broad policies of Dalmeny, 
to whose noble owner Marjorie "pretended 
to write a letter" of remonstrance because 
he shot rooks. Wiser than grown-up peo- 
ple, Marjorie derived immense enjoyment 
from excursions into the Land of Make-be- 
lieve. 

Another frequent residence of Marjorie's 
was Ravelston House, about two miles west 
of Edinburgh. Ravelston was the beautiful 
family seat of the Keiths, near Murrayfield. 
Mrs. Keith's husband was born and brought 
up at Ravelston, and his children enjoyed 
nothing so much as a little excursion to the 
home of their grandparents. The house 
bears on one of the lintels the inscription: 
"G. R— Ne quid Nimis. 1622. T. B."; 
and on an old lintel built up into a grotto in 
the garden, are the words: "im. AR. 1624. 
Ye . also . as . lively . stones . are . built . as . 
a . spiritual house. 1. Peter." 

We know from his notes to Waverly what 



MARJORIE FLEMING 67 

a deep impression Ravelston and its old gar- 
den made on the mind of Sir Walter Scott 
when he played there as a boy, and Pet Mar- 
jorie fell equally under the spell of the 
ancient place. 

At Ravelston she got balm wine, and there 
she loved to watch the birds and the cattle, 
and the sun gleaming through the trees. 

It was, however, chiefly at Braehead that 
Marjorie wrote her second journal. Here 
it is: 

"Braehead/'— [ISA KEITH.] 

"The day of my existence here has been 
delightful and enchanting. On Saturday I 
expected no less than three well-made 
Bucks, the names of whom is here adver- 
tized: Mr Geo Crakey and Wm. Keith 
and Jn Keith, the first is the funniest of 
every one of them. Mr Crakey and I 
walked to Crakyhall hand in hand in Inno- 
cence and matitation sweet thinking on the 
kind love which flows in our tender hearted 
mind which is overflowing with majestick 
pleasure No body was ever so polite to me 



68 MARJORIE FLEMING 

in the hole state of my existence Mr Craky 
you must know is a great Buck and pretty 
good-looking. 

"I am at Ravelston enjoying nature's 
fresh air, the birds are singing sweetly the 
calf doth frisk and play and nature shows 
her glorious face the sun shines through the 
trees it is delightful. 

"Wednesday. 

"Thursday, July 12th. 

"I confess that I have been more like a 
little young Devil than a creature for when 
Isabella went up the stairs to teach me re- 
ligion and my multiplication and to be good 
and all my other lessons I stamped with my 
feet and threw my new hat which she made 
on the ground and was sulky and was dread- 
fully passionate, but she never whiped me, 
but gently said Marjorie go into another 
room and think what a great crime you are 
committing, letting your temper get the bet- 
ter of you, but I went so sulkily that the 
Devil got the better of me, but she never 
whipes me, so that I thinke I would be the 
better of it, and the next time that I behave 



MARJORIE FLEMING 69 

ill I think she should do it for she never does 
it but she is very indulgent to me, but I am 
k very ungrateful to her. 

"Sunday 4 

"Wednesday. 

"To-Day I have been very ungrateful and 
bad and disobedient, Isabella gave me my 
writing, I wrote so ill that she took it away 
and looted it up in her desk where I stood 
trying to open it till she made me come and 
read my bible, but I was in a bad homour 
and red it so Carelessly and ill that she took 
it from me and her blood ran cold, but she 
never punished me, she is as gental as a lamb 
to me an ungrateful girl. 

"Isabella has given me praise for check- 
ing my temper, for I was sulkey even when 
she was kneeling an hole hoar teaching me 
to write 

"Yesterday I behave extremely ill in Gods 
most holy church for I would never attande 
myself nor let Isabella attand which was a 
great crime for she often tells me that when 
to or three are geathered together God is in 
the midst of them and it was the same Divel 



jo MARJORIE FLEMING 

that tempted Job that tempted me I am sure 
but he resisted satan though he had boils 
and many many other misfortunes which I 
have escaped I am now going to tell you 
about the horible and wretched plaege that 
my multiplication gives me you cant con- 
ceive it — the most Devilish thing is 8 times 
8 & 7 times J it is what nature itselfe cant 
endure 

"I have a delightful* pleasure in view 
which is the thoughts of going to Braehead 
where I will walk to Craky — hall wich puts 
me In mind that I walked to that delightful! 
place with a delightfull young man beloved 
by all his friends and espacialy by me his 
loveress but I must not talk any longer about 
him for Isa said it is not proper for to speak 
of gentalman but I will never forget him I 
hope that at 12 or 13 years old I will be as 
learned as Miss Isa and Nancy Keith for 
many girls have not the advantage I have 
and I am very very glad that satan has not 
geven bols and many other misfortunes in 
the holy bible these words are written that 
the Devel goes about like a roaring lyon in 



MARJORIE FLEMING 71 

search of his pray but the lord letts us escape 
from him but we sometimes do not strive 
with this awfull spirit. 

"To Day I pronounced a word which 
should never come out of a ladys lips it was 
that I called John a Impudent Bitch and 
Isabella afterwards told me that I should 
never say it even in a joke but she kindly for 
gave me because I said that I would not do 
it again I will tell you what I think made me 
in so bad a homour is I got 1 or 2 cups of 
that bad bad sina tea to Day 

"Last night I behaved extremely ill and 
threw my work in the stairs, and would not 
pick it up which was very wrong indeed; 
and all that William could do I would not 
go out of the room till he himself put me 
out, and roared like a bull and would not go 
to bed though Isabella bid me go, which 
was very wrong indeed to her when she takes 
so much pains with me when she would like 
best to be walking, but she thinks it her duty 
As this is Sunday I must begin to write seri- 
ous thoughts as Isabella bids me, I am think- 
ing how I should, I should Improve the 



72 MARJORIE FLEMING 

many talents I have I am very sorry I have 
threwn them away, it is shoking to think of 
it when many have not the instruction I 
have, because Isabella teaches me to or three 
hours every day in reading and writing and 
arethmatick and many other things and re- 
ligion into the bargan. On Sunday she 
teaches me to be virtuous. 

"Ravelston is a fine place because I get 
balm wine and many other dainties and it is 
extremely pleasant to me by the company of 
swine geese cocks &c. and they are the de- 
light of my heart. 

"I was at a race to Day & liked it very 
much but we missed one of the starts which 
was very provoaking indeed but I cannot 
help it so I I must not complain lord Mon- 
gumorys horse gained it but I am clattering 
so I will turn the subject to another think: — 
"but no I must git my spelling first, I ac- 
knowledge that this page is far from being 
well written 

"Isabella teaches me my lessons from ten 
till two every day and I wonder she is not 
tired to death with me for my part I would 



MARJORIE FLEMING 73 

be quite Impatient if I had a child to teach 

"It was a dreadfull thing that Haman was 
hanged on the gallows which he had pre- 
pared for Mordica to hang him and his ten 
sons thereon & it was very wrong and cruel 
to hang his sons because they did not com- 
mit the crime but then Jesus was not then 
come to teach us to be Mercif ull ; 

"Yesterday I behaved exceedingly ill & 
what is worse of all is when Isabella told me 
not to let my temper get the better of me 
but I did not mind her & and sinned away 
which was very naughty 

"Yesterday the thunder bolts roled 
Mightily oer the hils it was very majestick 
but to Day there has been no thunder, but I 
will speak about another thing. 

"Yesterday I am very glad to say a young 
Cocker came to our house to stay, it is very 
beautiful and it is named Crakey it was Isa- 
bella that named him and white and black is 
its coualer but all the white will come of is 
not that wonderfull — This is Saturday, & I 
am very glad of it because I have playlialf 
of the day, & I get money too, — but alas, I 



74 MARJORIE FLEMING 

owe Isabella 4 pence; for I am finned 2 
pence whenever I bite my nails Isa is teach- 
ing me to make Simecolings nots of interri- 
gations peorids & commas &c. As this is 
Sunday I will meditate uppon senciable & 
Religious subjects first I should be very 
thankful I am not a beggar as many are 

"I get my poetry now out of grey & I 
think it beautiful & Majestick but I am 
sorry to say that I think it is very difficult to 
get by heart but we must bear it well 

"I hope that Isabella will have the good- 
ness to teach me Geogrifie Mathematicks & 
Fractions &c, 

"The Scythians tribe lives very coarsely 
for a Gluton Introdused to Arsaces the Cap- 
tain of the army, 1 man who Dressed hair & 
another man who was a good cook but 
Arsaces said that he would keep 1 for brush- 
ing his horses tail, and the other to fead his 

Pigs 

"Dear Isa is very indulgent to me, for 
which usage I am sorrow to say, that I am 
always doing something or other ill, Which 
is very naughty, is it not; 



MARJORIE FLEMING 75 

"It is melancholy to think, that I have so 
many talents, & many there are that have 
not had the attention paid to them that I 
have, & yet they contrive to be better then 
me. 

"Mrs. Crakenit has a dog and I believe it 
is as beautiful as any in good old England, I 
am sure, & she had 5 pups, but they are all 
drowned but 1, 

"Now am I quite happy, for I am going 
to-morrow to a delightfull place, Breahead 
by name, belonging to Mrs. Crraford, where 
there is. ducks cocks hens bubbyjocks 2 dogs 
2 cats and swine; which is delightful. 

"I think it is shocking to think that the 
dog & cat should bear them & they are 
drowned after — I would rather have a 
man dog than a woman dog because they do 
not bear like women dogs, it is a hard case 
it is shocking, — 

"I came here as I thought to enjoy natures 
delightful breath it is sweeter than a fial of 
rose oil but Alas my hopes are disopointed, 
it always spitring but then I often get a blink 
& than I am happy 



76 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"Every Morn I awake before Isa & Oh I 
wish to be up & out with the larkies but I 
must take care of Isa who when aslipe is as 
beautiful as Viness & Jupiter in the skies; 

"To Day I affronted myself before Miss 
Margaret and Miss Isa Craford and Mrs 
Craford & Miss Kermieal which was very 
nauty but I hope that there will be no more 
evil in all my Journal 

"To Day 

"To Day is Saturday & I sauntered about 
the woulds & by the burn side and dirtied 
myself e which puts me in mind of a song my 
mother composed it was that she was out & 
dirtied herselfe which is like me: — 

"I am very sorry to say that I forgot God 
that is to say I forgot to pray today & Isa- 
bella told me that I should be thankful that 
he did not forget me if he did O what would 
become of me if I was in danger and God 
not friends with me I I must go to un- 
quenchable fire & if I was tempted to sin 
how could I resist it I will never do it again 
no no not if I can help it 

"I am going to tell you of a melancholy 






MARJORIE FLEMING 77 

story A young Turkie of 2 or 3 months old 
would you believe it the father broak its leg 
and he killed another I think he should be 
transported or hanged. 

"Will the sarvent has buried the Turkie & 
put a tomeston & written, this is in memory 
of the young Turke 

"I am going to tell you that in all my life 
I never behaved so ill for when Isa bid me 
go out of the room I would not go & when 
Isa came to the room I threw my book at 
her in a dreadful passion & she did not lick 
me but said go into room and pray and I did 
it I will never do it again I hope that I will 
never afront Isa for she said that she was 
never so afronted in her life but I hope it 
will never happen again 

"We expect Nancy tomorrow I am happy 
she is coming but I will be still happer if I 
behave better but I will be better 

"I got a young bird & I have tamed it & 
it hopes on my finger Alas I have promised 
it to Miss Bonner & the cage is here & little 
Dickey is in it it is 

"How O how shall I receive Nancy after 



78 MARJORIE FLEMING 

behaving so ill I tremble at it, it is dreadful 
to think of it, it is, 

"I am goin to turn over a new life & am 
goin to be a very good girl & be obedient to 
Isa Keith, here there is planty of goosberys 
which makes my teath water, 

"Yesterday there was campony Mr and 
Mrs Bonner & Philip Caddie who paid no 
little attention to me he took my hand and 
let me down stairs & shook my hand cor- 
dialy 

"A sarvant tried to poison mistress & 2, 3 
children, what a dreadful concience she 
must have, 

"Isabella is by far too indulgent to me & 
even the Miss Crafords say that they wonder 
at her patience with me & it is indeed true 
for my temper is a bad one 

"My religion is greatly falling off because 
I dont pray with so much attention when I 
am saying my prayers and my character is 
lost a-mong the Breahead people I hope I 
will be religious agoin but as for regaining 
my charecter I despare of it, 

"Isa bids me give you a note of the sarmon 



: 



MARJORIE FLEMING 79 

preached by Mr Bonner it was that we 
should ofer ourselves to God morning and 
evening & then we will be happy with God 
if we are good 

"At Breahead there is a number of pic- 
tures & some have monstras large wigs 

"everybody just now hates me & I deserve 
it for I dont behave well. 

"I will never again trust in my own power 
for I see that I cannot be good without Gods 
assistence, I will never trust in my selfe and 
Isas health will be quite ruined by me it will 
indeed, I can never repay Isabella for what 
she has done but by good behave-our 

"If I am good I will be happy but if I am 
bad I will be unhappy 

"Isa has given me advice which is that 
when I feal Satan begining to tempt me that 
I flea from him and he would flea from me. 

"John is going to Queensferry to meet ser- 
vent William, It is far better to behave 
better than ill 

"Let me give you a note of the saren it is 
that if we are determined to be good & try 
to be so that we will always succeed for God 



8o MARJORIE FLEMING 

when he seas that we are trying will assist 
us. 

"Many people say that it is difficult to be 
good but is they will not try to do it 

"The best way to be good it to pray to God 
to give us assistence if he gives us his assist- 
ence I can say that I will be good"& we 
should never mind punishment if it is to do 
us good & it is better to have punishment if 
it is to save us from brimston & fire, We 
are reading a book about a man who went 
into a house and he saw a sack & he went 
and look into it & he saw a dead body in it 

" 'Marjorie must write no more journal till 
she writes better/ — [? ISA KEITH.] 

"I know that if I try truly to be good God 
will healp me to be so & with his help alone 






MARJORIE FLEMING 81 

can we behave well indeed it is true & every 
body will see so 

"Nancy is too indulgent & as to Isa I 
would not find one like her though I was to 
search the world indeed people must say 
that or they will be false people but I do not 
think they will be so 

*n #n #n <t*i <u <u u u u. *n <*n *n <n <n> 

"This is Thursday & it was frosty but the 
sun shins n all its beauty it is very romantick 
indeed, — 

"Isabella & Miss Isabella Craford walks 
to Baronbugal & jump with filisity over wals 
and fences, — 

"Life is indeed prasious to those who are 
good because they are happy & good indeed 

"Remorse is the worst thing to bear & I 
am afraid that I will fall a marter to it when 
I am going to Kerkaldy & to my poor moth- 
er again I will tell you why it is that I have 
thrown away many advantages that others 
have not therefore I I think I will fall a vic- 
tim to remorse; — 



82 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"There is four You, trees & Is sa caled i 
of them Lot & his wife" 

Marjorie's journals are full of surprises. 
Her first fairly shimmered in the sunshine 
of happiness, of books, new acquaintances, 
new knowledge of places and things, new 
powers of body and mind to be exercised, 
love of friends and even delights of rhyme. 
But in this second journal there is not a 
scrap of poetry; very little about books, 
nothing of the beauties of nature ; the land- 
scape is ashen gray and the heavens are cov- 
ered with a thick cloud. 

The opening pages are bright enough, for 
the scene is still Braehead — Braehead the 
"delightfull," Braehead with the kindly 
company of farmyard beasts, its "you" trees 
without, and the walls within covered with 
portraits of ancestors wearing monstrous 
large wigs. Then comes Ravelston, another 
beloved spot; and amid these pleasant scenes 
our little Marjorie has an experience of 
what she calls "sentiment." Permitted to 
accompany a pleasure party to Craigiehall, 



MARJORIE FLEMING 83 

the little girl gets a cavalier all to herself, 
and what with the promotion and the kindly 
attentions of her gallant companion, whc 
walks with her "hand in hand in innocence 
and meditation sweet," the child's heart is 
overflowing with a pleasure which she de- 
scribes in language borrowed from novels 
and poems. When Marjorie thinks she is in 
love, she puts it all in her journal and does 
not mince matters. . The fact that her moth- 
er would probably see the journal by and 
by made it all the more necessary that the 
whole story should be told. Isa Keith, it is 
true, forbade her little charge to write about 
love, but who can remember the cold coun- 
sels of prudence when the heart is too full? 
When a young lady of six and a half years 
considers herself a "loveress," or when she 
is led downstairs by a gentleman as if she 
were grown-up, and when he shakes her 
hand "cordialy," how can she help record- 
ing it all? Marjorie's sensitive nature felt 
within itself the uprising of new forces, and 
she frankly endeavored to reveal her feel- 
ings in her own confessional. 



8 4 MARJORIE FLEMING 

But, alas! the first page of her journal, all 
aglow with her greatest outburst of emotion, 
is followed instantly by another page which 
is simply flooded with sorrow and remorse. 
Marjorie's cry from the depths of penitence 
and despair is in its own way, and, in view of 
her years, no less touching than the Confes- 
sions of St. Augustine.. The intensity of the 
suffering is shown by the longing for punish- 
ment, for certain natures must have penance 
as some sort of defence from the burning 
arrows of the conscience. No doubt her ex- 
perience was really due to some crisis in 
emotional development, common to most 
children, but very marked in Marjorie's 
case on account of her more fervid tempera- 
ment, and comparable to growing pains in 
the physical frame. 

Whatever its source, the disturbance that 
shook Marjorie's nature was naturally de- 
scribed as "temper." So Isa Keith named 
it, and Marjorie humbly acquiesced. Nor 
did Isa err in her treatment of the trouble. 
There were no angry scenes, no upbraiding, 
no punishment. Isa enlisted on her side 






MARJORIE FLEMING 85 

Marjorie's good sense and self-respect and 
gratitude,, and, indeed, the little Pet was al- 
ways a good girl at heart, nay, absolutely in 
love with goodness as with beauty. Natural 
refinement and a conscience of extreme sen- 
sitiveness were on the whole more than a 
counterpoise to the violence of temper, but 
the struggle led to much mental anguish. 
Marjorie's penitence took on a deeper shade 
of darkness from religion. Scottish theol- 
ogy was never gloomier than at this period, 
and the view she had been taught to take of 
God is given in her own words: "God Al- 
mighty knows everything that we do or say 
and he can Kill you in a moment." In this 
religious atmosphere Marjorie's temper was 
no longer merely a humiliating want of self- 
control; it was Sin, and when her passion 
was at its worst it seemed to her that "she 
sinned away." The same theology con- 
nected the whole derangement with Satan' — 
"the same Divel that tempted Job," and in 
Marjorie's imaginative eyes an "awful 
spirit" against which little girls were called 
on to "strive." What a subject for a poet— 



86 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"The Child and the Devil!" What a pic- 
ture Marjorie herself must have formed, 
"the Devel goes about like a roaring lyon in 
search of his pray." Following Isa Keith's 
advice, Marjorie resolved that on the ap- 
proach of the evil spirit she would "flea 
him," but it was not so easy as it looked, and 
to her resolves never to offend she learned to 
add the saving clause, "No, no; not if I can 
help it." This caution was justified by the 
event. In vain she wrote down against her- 
self the tale of her "naughtinesses," and then 
resolved to "turn over a new life." Poor 
little warrior against Apollyon! It was a 
cruel contest, and she was often defeated. 
She recognized that her "carecter" and her 
religion were alike lost, and although relig- 
ion, as a more elastic material, might be 
largely restored, she rightly judged that 
character once gone is seldom recovered. 
One little sentence marks the very depth of 
Marjorie's misery, "Everybody hates me 
just now and I deserve it." "I despare of 
it," she wrote. Poor child ! Every person is 
said to meditate suicide at least once before 




MARJORIE FLEMING 87 

the age of seventeen, but who ever heard of 
religious despair claiming a victim of seven? 
Around the giant evil of untamed passion, 
Marjorie was horrified to find other ugly 
sins growing up. Once at least she so far, 
forgot her manners as to use unpolite lan- 
guage, an offense for which a previous dose 
of nauseous medicine was but a poor excuse. 
Worse still, she found that sometimes she 
forgot her daily prayers, and so ran the risk 
of being forgotten by God, or even com- 
mitted to "unquenchable fire." In church 
she was inattentive — the strain was too great 
for the little hearer. At home she knew 
that, dismal as she was, it was her duty as a 
Scottish child to wear a double melancholy 
on the Sabbath day. "As this is Sunday I 
must begin to be serious," and when a little 
mite is going to be serious she becomes very 
solemn indeed. She would fain "improve her 
talents," but she can only think of wasted op- 
portunities, exceptional advantages abused 
and talents thrown away. It was all very 
"shoking" to an earnest little girl like 
Marjorie. Like many another traveler down 



88 MARJORIE FLEMING 

this dolorous way she determined "never to 
trust in her own power" again, and she 
prayed for Divine assistance in repressing 
the disorderly forces within. We need not 
doubt that her prayers were answered, but 
for the present the poor child was often 
hopeless. Remorse, she said, was the worst 
thing to bear, and she was afraid she would 
"fall a marter to it." All she could look for- 
ward to was to explain to "her poor mother" 
in Kirkcaldy how she had failed, and then 
just "fall a victim to remorse." 

Marjorie did not know that the poor 
mother herself w T hen a little girl had a 
"shoking" temper. It was part of the fam- 
ily heritage;. and so also was the "remorse." 
Marjorie's sister, who died^ as recently at 
1 88 1, returned on one occasion from a visit 
to her friends in Edinburgh and handed her 
maid a number of presents, remarking, 
"This is from So-and-so, and this from So- 
and-so, and this is for my temper!" 

That Marjorie's troubles grew naturally 
from the intensity of her nature, one may 
gather from her grasp of vigorous language. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 89 

"Roar like a bull," "the most Devilish 
thing/' "What nature itselfe cant endure," 
"the delight of my soul" "your beloved let- 
ters," and such like highly coloured expres- 
sions show that Marjorie's ailment was by 
no means mental anaemia. How often does 
she use the adjective majestic — "majestic 
pride," "majestic pleasure," "majestic thun- 
der," "majestic poetry"! 

The only poet named in this journal is 
Gray, whose Elegy was in harmony with the 
general somberness of Marjorie's condition, 
and the best she can say of his poetry is that 
"we must bear it well." The ancient Scyth- 
ians seem to have replaced the Scots as the 
subjects for historical readings, and the. 
Bible study centered in the Book of Esther. 
It might shock the writer of that work if he 
knew that Marjorie had not a thought for 
Mordecai and his compatriots. Feminine 
tenderness, alas! is as uncertain as it is 
precious, and sometimes foolishly flows out 
to the villain in place of to the hero. Mar- 
jorie wept no tears for the Jews, but was dis- 
tressed by the hanging of Haman and his 



90 MARJORIE FLEMING 

ten sons. The change of victims on the spe- 
cial gallows spoke to her only of wickedness 
and cruelty, and conveyed none of the joy 
and triumph designed by the Jewish nar- 
rator. 

We miss in this journal the curious words 
that so often charm us in Marjorie's other 
writings, but there are a few gems, as when 
she remarked of a fine day that "it is very 
romantick"; tells us that the thunderbolts 
"roled mightily oer the hills," compares her 
sleeping Isa to "Viness and Jupiter in the 
skies," and the breath of summer to "a fial of 
rose oil," and describes Isa and Miss Crau- 
furd as "jumping with filisity over walls and 
fences." 

Isa Keith was all the time the most im- 
pressive personality to little Marjorie, and 
she is never weary of admiring her gracious- 
ness. "She was as gental as a lamb." Even 
when "her blood ran cold" at the sight of 
Marjorie's naughtiness, Isa merely ordered 
her to another room to pray. Marjorie 
wonders that Isa is not tired to death, and 
fears that "her health will be ruined" by her 



MARJORIE FLEMING 91 

exhausting efforts to guide the little cousin. 

Isa really devoted much time and care to 
Marjorie, teaching her from ten o'clock till 
two in such subjects as writing, spelling, 
punctuation, grammar, and arithmetic, with 
"religion into the bargan." While record- 
ing that the multiplication table was a 
"wretched plaege," Marjorie rather incon- 
sistently longed to be taught mathematics 
and fractions, astronomy and geography, 
for she hoped to be as learned as her cousins 
when she reached the age of thirteen or 
fourteen — an age, alas! she was not destined 
to see. 

At Braehead Marjorie slept with Isa and 
was proud to be allowed to do so, but lack- 
ing the placidity of Isa's nature, she could 
not sleep so soundly nor so long. In the 
early morning she lay awake, longing to be 
"up with the larkies," but afraid to stir lest 
she should disturb the sleeping beauty by 
her side. It is said that no one is a hero to 
his valet, but to her little bedfellow Isa 
Keith was the very personification of good- 
ness and beauty, and she did not hesitate to 



92 MARJORIE FLEMING 

compare her to the brightest stars in the sky. 

During the autumn months covered by 
this journal Marjorie found but few pass- 
ing events worthy of record. There were 
two tragedies of the farmyard to perplex her 
loving heart. One was the drowning of the 
puppies, which caused her to think it strange 
and sad that their mother should bear them 
only to be drowned "after all." It was as 
Marjorie said, "shocking to think of it," and 
her childish mind puzzled how to prevent 
occurrences which raised such awful prob- 
lems of death and destiny. The other 
tragedy was the death of a young turkey 
whose father killed it. Remembering the 
case of James Macary, Marjorie thought 
this turkey murderer ought to be hanged or 
transported. Another sad event was the at- 
tempt by a domestic servant to poison her 
mistress and the children, on which Mar- 
jorie, who suffered so much remorse for 
much more venial sins, remarks, "What a 
conscience she must have!" 

Marjorie's brighter self is ever present in 
her love for animals. Braehead the beauti- 



MARJORIE FLEMING 93 

ful was made still dearer "by the company 
of swine, geese, and cocks," and other lowly 
folk that were "the delight of her heart." 
Her fondness for birds and beasts lends a 
particular pathos to the story of Dicky, 
which is little more than hinted at in the 
journal. She got the bird when quite young, 
she trained it herself, it had learned to hop 
on her finger, and then in obedience to a sud- 
den kindly impulse she promised to give her 
little pet as a gift to the clergyman's daugh- 
ter. The cage arrived for it, little Dicky 
was placed inside, and poor Madgie crushed 
down her feelings as she bade her little play- 
fellow farewell. Her reticence about the 
sadness of this parting does her honour. She 
was acquiring "self-control." 

But there was one grace she never needed 
to acquire, for it was her birthright — a royal 
largeness of heart, full of pity for all things 
great and small. No one, no matter how 
apparently superior to her in age or rank, 
was beyond Madgie's compassion. See how 
frequent on her lips is the caressing comfort- 
ing adjective "poor." Poor Job the Patri- 



94 MARJORIE FLEMING 

arch, "Poor Mary Queen of Scots," "My 
poor mother in Kirkcaldy," "Poor Isa," 
"Poor turkeys," and "Poor, poor Emily." 
Only a child, conscious of her own large 
heritage, could afford to bestow so much 
loving pity on others. 

Was Marjorie's mother also a poetess? It 
is not improbable. A lady whose sister and 
daughter were both endowed with a certain 
amount of poetic feeling and ability might 
share in their gifts. But it is just as likely 
that Maidie was mistaken in supposing that 
her mother actually composed the song of 
which she sang some snatches. It may have 
been the Scottish verse: 

My mother sent me to the well, 
Better she had ga'en hersel'; 
Broke the jar an' filed mysel', 
An' whistled o'er the lave o't. 

For in her first letter the child attributed to 
her cousin William (or was it her brother?) 
the invention of the word "birsay," which 
nevertheless had long had a place in the 



MARJORIE FLEMING 95 

vocabulary of the Scottish dialect. Birse is 
the English bristle, and to be brisie is to 
bristle up, as a fiery little personage like our 
Marjorie was rather liable to do. 

The frequent tragedies within and with- 
out, the vision of unquenchable fire and 
brimstone, and even the gruesome story of 
the dead body found sewn in a sack, af- 
fected Marjorie's nerves, and her handwrit- 
ing, instead of improving, began to degen- 
erate. At this stage the journal came to an 
abrupt stop, for across the top was written 
in a neat, lady-like hand, the line, "Marjory 
must write no more journal till she writes 
better." Accordingly the remaining space is 
chiefly devoted to monotonous repetitions of 
"Expectations" and "Communications." 
The over-bright mind had to go to sleep so 
that the child's hand might acquire a com- 
mand of penmanship. 

It was early in 1810, when Marjorie was 
just seven years old, that she was presented 
with her third journal, and during the fol- 
lowing weeks and months she filled it up as 
follows : 



96 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"Many people are hanged for Highway 
robbery House breking Murder &c &c 

"Isabella teaches me every thing I know I 
am much indebted to her she is learn & witty 
& sensible. I can but make a poor reward 
for the servises she has done me if I can give 
her any but I doubt it repent be wise saith 
the teacher before it be to late Regency 
bonnets are become very fashionable of late 
& every gets them save poor me. A Mirtal 
is a beautiful plant so is a Geramem & Net- 
tel Geramem 

"Climbing is a talent which the bear ex- 
cels in and so does monkey apes & baboons 
I have been washing my dools cloths to day 
& I like it very much people who have a 
good Concience is always happy but those 
who have a bad one is always unhappy & 
discontented. 

"There is a dog that yels continualy & I 
pity him to the bottom of my heart indeed 
I do. Tales of fashionable life are very 
good storys Isabella compels me to sit down 
& not to rise till this page is done but it is 
very near finished only one line to write. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 97 

" Yesterday the thunder roared & now and 
then flashes of lightning was seen to-day but 
to-day there is no such thing & far from it, 
for it is very warm sunny & mild. The 
Monkey gets as many visitors as For my 
cousins. Nobody can be happy that has 
guilt on his mind. 

"Grandeur and Magnificence makes one 
Proud & Insolent Peevish & petish these 
make us miserable & unhappy besides peo- 
ple will hate us & abhor us & dispise us We 
should get the better of our passion & not 
let then get the better of us. 

"Osian's poems are most beautiful I am 
very strong and robust & not of the delicate 
sex 

"Nor of the fair but of the deficent in 
looks. 

"People who are deficient in looks can 
make up for it by virtue I am very fond of 
the Arabian nights entertainments & wish to 
read the tales of the Genie. Silver & Gould 
is presous I am fair as the sun & beautiful 
as the moon. I hear many people speak 
about the Exebition an I long very much to 



98 MARJORIE FLEMING 

behold it but I have to little money to pay 
the expence. Queen streat is a very gay one 
& so is Princes streat for all the lads and 
lases besides bucks and begars parade there. 
Tomsons him to the seasons is most elegant 
& most beautifull & so is young Celidon and 
his Emelia but is melancholy and distress- 
ing poor man his fate was a dismale he was 
an unhappy lover Mr Burn writs a beauti- 
full song on Mr Cunhaming whose wife de- 
serted him truly it is a most beautifull one 
"I like to read the Fabulous historys 
about the historys of Robin Dickey flapsay & 
Peccay & it is very amuseing for some were 
good birds and others bad Peccay was the 
most dutifull & obedient to her parents I 
went into Isabellas bed to make her smile 
like the Genius Demedicus or the statute in 
ancient Grece but she fell asleep in my very 
face at which my anger broke forth so that I 
qwoke her from a very comfortable nap all 
was now hushed up but again my anger 
burst forth at her bidding me get up I have 
read in the history of Scotland how Murry 
the regent was shot by Hamilton of Both- 



MARJORIE FLEMING 99 

wellhaugh but Murry used Hamiltons wife 
very ill & drove her quite mad but Hamilton 
should have left Murry's punishment to 
God Almighty for revenge is a very very 
bad thing & aught not to be done 

"Many people are so sinful as to steal and 
murder, but they have punishment either 
from God or men in this world or the next 

"In the New whole duty of men that says 
that says that familly prayer should be well 
attended to I should like to see a play very 
much for I never saw one in all my life & 
don't believe I ever shall but I hope I can 
be content without going to one I can be 
quite hapy without my desire be granted 
People should set others an exampal of do- 
ing good for every body is happy that doeth 
good 

"Nancys and Isabellas uncle has got musi- 
cal Glases & and the sound of them is ex- 
ceeding sweet The poetical works of tomas 
Grey are most beautifull especially one the 
death of a favourite cat who was drowned in 
a Tub of fishes. When books are funy and 
amuseing I am very fond of them such as the 



ioo MARJORIE FLEMING 

arabian nights entertainments & the tales 
of the Castal &c &c Every body should be 
unasuming and not asuming We should re- 
gard virtue but not vice for that leads us to 
distriction & makes us unhappy all our life 

"Some days ago Isabella had a terrible fit 
of the toothake and she walked with a long 
nightshift at dead of night like a gost and I 
thought she was one Sha prayed for tired 
natures sweet restorer bamy sleep but did 
not get it a ghostly figure she was indeed 
enough to make a saint tremble it made me 
quever & sheke from top to toe but I soon 
got the better of it & and next morning I 
quite forgot it Superstition is a very mean 
thing & should be dispised & shuned 

"An adress to my father when he came 
to Edinburgh My father from Kircaldy 
came but not to plunder or to game Game- 
ing he shuns I am very sure He has a heart 
that is very pure 

"Honest & well behaved is he 
And busy as a little Bee 



MARJORIE FLEMING 101 

"I am very fond of some parts of Tom- 
sons seasons I like loud Mirement & laugh- 
ter. 

"I love to walk in lonely solitude & leave 
the bustel of the nosey town behind me & 
while I look on nothing but what strikes the 
eye with sights of bliss & then I think myself 
trinsported far beyond the reach of the 
wicked sons of men where there is nothing 
but strife & envying pilfering & murder 
where neither contentment nor retirement 
dwells but there dwells drunkeness— 

"Beautious Isabella say 
How long at breahead will you stay 

for a week or not so long 
Then weel desart the busy throng 
Ah can you see me sorrow so 
And drop a hint that you must go 

1 thought you had a better hart 

Then make me with my dear friends part 
But now I see that you have not 
And that you mock my dreadful lot 
My health is always bad and sore 
And vou have hurt it a deal more 



102 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"The reason I write this poem is because 
I am going to Breahead only two days 

"I like to here my own sex praised but not 
the other The vision is most beautiful 
Breahead is a beautiful place & on a charm- 
ing situation I should like to see the Exhi- 
bition very much & still more so the theater 

"I am reading the misteries of udolpho 
with Isabella & am much interested with 
them I have got some of Popes works by 
hart & like them very much the days are 
very long and very light just now which is 
very pleasant to me & I darsay to every 
body. 

"I should like to go and see the curosities 
in London but I should be a little affraid of 
the robbers For that country is greatly in- 
fested with them at Edinburgh their is not 
so many of them Their is a very nice book 
called The Monk & the vinedreser written 
by a lady but I do not know her name 

■"It is true that 

"Death the righteous love to see 
But from it doth the wicked flee 



MARJORIE FLEMING 103 

"I am sure they fly as fast as their legs 
can carry them 

"My cousin John has a beautiful musaim 
& he has got many nice curiosities 

"Macbeth is a fearful play. I pityed 
Mary Queen of Scots when the people held 
a standard on which was painted the dead 
King and his son kneeling and uttering these 
words judge & revenge my cause O Lord 
I should not liked to have been her but I 
think it was very wrong in the people to 
mock their sovereign & queen I have seen 
her picture & I think her most beautiful & 
Angelick Elisbeth behaved very cruelly 
too poor Mary 

"Today O today I am going to Breahead 
but alas my pleasure will be soon damped 
for I must come home in too days but I wish 
to stay too months or more for I am very 
fond of the country and could stay at Brea- 
head all my life. There the wind houles to 
] the waves dashing roar but I would not 
weep my woes there upon any account 

"To days ago was the King's birthday 
And to his health we sung a lay 



104 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Poor man his health is very bad 
And he is often very mad 
He was a very comely lad 
Since death took his girl from his sight 
He to her grave doth walk at night 
His son the grand grand Duke of York 
I am sure he eateth plenty pork 
For I do hear that he is fat 
But I am not so sure of that 

"Of summer I am very fond 
And love to baithe into a pond 
The look of sunshine dies away 
And will not let me out to play 
I love the morning sun to see 
That makes from the house to flee 
I love the morning sun to spy 
Glittring through the casements eye 
The rays of light are very sweet 
And puts away our taste of meat 

"My lover Isa walks with me 
And then we sing a pretty glee 
My lover I am sure shes not 
But we are content with our lot 



MARJORIE FLEMING 105 

"Often I have heard people say 
In the right path I love to stray- 
But wickedness I cannot bear 
To walk with it I will not dare 

"The trees do wave their lofty heads while 
the winds stupenduous breath wafts the scat- 
tered leaves afar off besides the declifities of 
the rocks leaves that once was green and 
beautiful now withered and wed away scat- 
ering their remains on the footpaths and 
highroads &c &c 

"The balmy brease comes down from heaven 
And makes us like for to be liveing 
But when we think that if we died 
No pleasure there would be denied 
There happiness doth always reign 
And there we feel not a bit pain 

"In the morning the first thing I see is 
most beautiful trees spreading their lux- 
urant branches between the Horison & me 

"There is a thing I love to see 
That is our monkey catch a flee 
With looks that shows that he is proud 



ro6 MARJORIE FLEMING 

He gathers round him such a crowd 
But if we scold him he will grin 
And up he'll jump and make a din — 

"I love to see the morning sun that rise so 
long before the moon the moon that casts 
her silver light when the Horison sinks be- 
neath the clouds and scateres its light on 
the surface of the earth Here at Breahead 
I enjoy rurel filisity to per-fection, content, 
retirement, rurel friend-ship books, all these 
dwell here but I am not sure of ease and 
alternate labor useful life 

"I love in Isa's bed to lie 

such a joy and luxury 
The bottom of the bed I sleep 
And with great care I myself keep 
Oft I embrace her feet of lillys 
But she has goton all the pillies 
Her neck I never can embrace 
But I do hug her feet in place 
But I am sure I am contented 
And of my follies am repented 

1 am sure I'd rather be 
In a small bed at liberty. 






MARJORIE FLEMING 107 

JOOd JOOd JO 9}BJ 3l{} UI P3JS3J3JUI \\0X\U1 UIB 

29 oqdjopn jo S9U3}sAp\[ aqj SuipBai uib j 
doj 9qj jb jdajs j pBq auop 9ABq jou pjnoD j 
qoiqM SJU31UUTBJJ3JU9 sjqSiu uiqBJy aqj 3u : 

-pB9J 5JJOM }B AjBIUIJUOD AjQA SBM J Jtiq Sui 

->pi}[ puB Supxgy jBiunjuoD Xq jqgxu ib ^sod 
-3j J3q paqmjsip j jBqj sAbs BjpqBSj 9SBD9q 
paq 3qj jo jooj sqj jb Xbj j pB9qB9icj jy» 

Xjj^qn JB paq jjbuis b uj 
aq jaqjBJ p j ajns uib j 

"ON JESSY WATSON'S ELOPEMENT 

1 

"Run of is Jessy Watson fair 
Her eyes do sparkel she's good hair 
But Mrs Leath you shall now be 
Now and for all Eternity 
Such merry spirits I do hate 
But now its over and to late 
For to retract such vows you cant 
And you must now love your galant 
But I am sure you will repent 

1 These lines Marjorie wrote upside down to show that 
* ]they were an explanatory footnote. They were written in 
after the rest of the journal had been filled up. 



108 MARJORIE FLEMING 

And your poor heart will then relant 
Your poor poor father will repine 
And so would I if you were mine 
But now be good for this time past 
And let this folly be your last 

"Our hills & dales fair Phillip strayes 
And he doth walk through all the ways 
He and myselfe are lovers true 
We can feel pangs as well as you 
Those that feel pangs are not so few 
We walked upon the distant hills 
And often goes into the mills 
Very soft & white his cheeks 
His hair is fair & grey his breaks 
His teath is like the daisy fair 
The only fault is on his hair 
I am beginning to be jealous 
And feel a small degree of malice 
That kindles in my bosom fair 
And fills my heart with great despair 
Ah man you said you once loved me 
But from your promises you flee 

"The sun is seen glimering through the 
trees whose spreading foliage allows only a 






MARJORIE FLEMING 109 

slight tinge to be seen, it is beautiful sight 
In the dining room & drawing at Breahead 
The walls are hung with pictures of there 
ancestors both men and weomen The hedges 
are green the trees are green and every thing 
bears a pleasure to the eye when we look on 
them 

"There is some beautiful trees behind the 
house & before the house which makes it 
very 

"I have been a Naughty Girl 
"I have been a Naughty Girl 

"The lofty trees their heads do shake 
When the wind blows a noise they make 
When they are cut a crash you hear 
That fills your very soul with fear 
Tis like the thunders loudest roar 
You would not like to hear much more 
It makes the earth begin to quake 
And all its mity pillers shake 
The viabration of the sound 
Will I am sure you quite confound 
It makes the mountains to resound 



no MARJORIE FLEMING 

DEDICATED TO MRS H. CRAWFURD BY THE 
AUTHOR— M F 

"Three turkeys fair their last have breathed 
And now this world for ever leaved 
Their Father & their Mother too 
Will sigh and weep as well as you 
Mourning for their osprings fair 
Whom they did nurse with tender care 
Indeed the rats their bones have cranched 
To eternity are they launched 
There graceful form and pretty eyes 
Their fellow fows did not despise 
A direful death indeed they had 
that would put any parent mad 
But she was more then usual calm 
She did not give a single dam 
She is as gentel as a lamb 
Here ends this melancholy lay 
Farewell Poor Turkeys I must say 

"Tis eve the wind is very boisterous the sea 
must be very tempestious while the waves 
montain high dashes on the ships side over- 
turns it & launches the crew into eternity. 



MARJORIE FLEMING in 

"I love to see the mornings light 
That glitters through the trees so bright 
Its splended rays indeed full sweet 
And takes away our tast of meat 
I love to see the moon shine bright 
It is a very nobel sight 
Its worth to sit up all the night 
But I am going to my tea 
And what IV said is not a lee. 

"Poor Williams gone to Gififords fair 
To see the things that are seen there 
I'm sure he will be much amused 
For to such things he is not used 
There lads and & lasses he will see 
Dressed as gay as can well be 

"I have often been at a fair & am always 
very much interested and amused with it 
there are always a great concorse of people 
at it Here I pas my life in rurel filicity fes- 
tivity & pleasure I saunter about the woods 
and forests Breahead is far far sweeter then 
Edinburgh or any other place Every thing 
is beautiful some colour is red others green 
& white &c &c but the trees & hedges are the 



ii2 MARJORIE FLEMING 

most beautiful for they are of the most 
pretty green I ever beheld in all my life 

"Goodness of hart gentelness & meekness 
makes one beloved & respected by those who 
are acquainted with them but pride inso- 
lence and bad hartedness is always hated and 
despised it is better to follow after the first 
then after the last for the first is good and 
the last is bad 

"Of sauntering about the doors I am very 
fond especially when it is a fine & sunny day 
I am very fond of spring Summer & Autum 
but I am not so fond of winter tor then it is 
cold & dreary Isabella says that when we 
pray we should pray fervently & not rattle 
over a prayer when our thoughts are wan- 
dering but to collect our thoughts for that 
we are kneeling at the footstool of our Lord 
& creator who we ought to respect honour & 
obey due revirance & fear he created us & he 
may take away our blisings if he pleaes He 
showers down blessings on our heads when 
we least deserve them & forgives our sins & 
forgetfulness of him our Lord & creator 
who saved* us from mesiry & eternal dam- 



MARJORIE FLEMING 113 

nation from unquestionable fire & brimston 
he saved us 

"When cold as clay when cold as ice 
To get into a bed tis nice 
It is a nice thing for to creep 
But not do dose away & sleep 
Into a bed where Isa lies 
And to my questions she replies 
Corrects my faults improves my mind 
And tells me of the faults she find 
But she is sound asleep sometimes 
For that I have not got good rimes 
But when awake I her teize much 
And she doth squall at every touch 
Then Isa reads in bed alone 
And reads the fasts by good Nelson 
Then I get up to say my prayers 
To get my porridge & go down stairs" 

The climate of the third journal differs 
entirely from that of the second. References 
to books read and to passing events are 
many, the enjoyment of nature is again 
prominent, and original poems are numer- 
ous. Marjorie is herself again. Her read- 



ii4 MARJORIE FLEMING 

ing includes the works of two old favorites, 
Gray and Thomson, and three new ones — 
Burns, Pope, some of whose lines she can 
repeat by heart, and Ossian, whom she does 
not venture to quote. Gray's lines On a Fa- 
vourite Cat Drowned in a Tub of Gold 
Fishes caught the girl's fancy, and Thom- 
son's Hymn on the Seasons gratified her 
taste for lofty thoughts and beautiful lan- 
guage. The other poem by Thomson im 
pressed her still more: 

Young Celadon 
And his Amelia were a matchless pair, 
With equal virtue formed and equal grace; 
Hers the mild luster of the blooming morn, 
And his the radiance of the risen day. 

It was beautiful but most distressing, Mar- 
jorie thought. Though no longer a believer 
in fairy tales, Marjorie enjoyed equally 
Mrs. Trimmer's Fabulous Histories, that 
recorded the doings and sayings of birds, 
and the Arabian Nights Entertainments. 
One of her cherished books was theMyj- 
teries of Udolpho, a sensational romance of 






MARJORIE FLEMING 115 

the Kotzebue type, written by Mrs. Rad- 
cliffe and published in 1794. The other 
stories now read included The Monk and 
the Vine Dresser and Tales of the Castle; 
and another by her favorite author, Miss 
Edgeworth, Tales of Fashionable Life. 

In the use of words Marjorie now showed 
a great advance. Deriving keen enjoyment 
from beautiful language, she loves to get a 
poetical term, such as "horizon," and play 
with it. Her little slips in the use, and still 
more in the spelling, of words — for ex- 
ample, "unquestionable fire and brimston" 
— remind us with pathetic force that after 
all the would-be moralist and theologian is 
but a child trying on the religious clothes of 
her grown-up friends. 

The outward glances in this journal are 
more feminine than in the earlier writings. 
"Regency Bonnets," no doubt named from 
the Regency arranged on account of the 
health of George III., had come into vogue, 
and the little girl in Charlotte Street would 
dearly love to possess one, only she could not 
afford it. "If I had one it would not become 



u6 MARJORIE FLEMING 

me," soliloquized the young philosopher. 
The fashionable parade in Princes Street 
and Queen Street of Edinburgh, with its 
mingling of rich and poor, attracted her, 
and she would have been in raptures if al- 
lowed to visit "the Exhibition." The Ex- 
hibition was a collection of paintings by 
Scottish artists placed on view in Edin- 
burgh. It was opened on 9th April, 1810, 
and was long the chief topic in cultured 
circles. Marjorie could not afford the ex- 
pense of going to see the pictures, and she 
had therefore to be content with a view of 
her cousin John's "Musaim," which she 
tells us contained "nice curiosities." Like 
every true child Marjorie had many long- 
ings. More than once she wrote that she 
would^ love to see a play acted in a theater. 
She had never seen one "in all my life," a 
favorite phrase on her lips, and one of sad 
significance when we remember that she 
was destined to die before the end of her 
ninth year. She said she had never seen a 
play, and then with sad foreboding she 
added that she did not believe she ever 






MARJORIE FLEMING 117 

would see one, and she would therefore be 
content. The fame of the "grandeur" and 
"curiosities" of London had also excited 
Marjorie's desires to see that "capital 
town," but this also was to be denied her, 
and with a fine blending of philosophy and 
childish timorousness she told herself that 
after all she would have been afraid of rob- 
bers in London, "for that country is greatly 
infested with them — in Edinburgh we have 
not so many of them." Poor Londoners! 
Our Pet must have felt a great pity for them 
far away from the security of life and prop- 
erty which men enjoyed in Edinburgh, and 
still farther from the homely safety of Kirk- 
caldy. 

Marjorie's love of nature and the outdoor 
world is keener and happier than ever — "of 
sauntering about the doors I am very fond," 
"I am very fond of summer and autumn" 
"I pass my life in rural felicity," such is the 
sweet refrain of her thoughts. 

Of course there are still faint signs of the 
old explosiveness of her nature, but she can 
keep herself in hand with quite good 



ii8 MARJORIE FLEMING 

humor. "My anger again broke forth" is 
her half poetical, half playful, description 
of her passing annoyance when Isabella 
"fell asleep in her very face." When or- 
dered to a certain task Madgie no longer 
"stamps with her feet," but with cheerful 
and almost frolicsome obedience writes — 
"Isabella compels me to sit down and not 
rise till this page is done, but it is very near 
finished only one line to write." 

One night Marjorie awoke at midnight 
and was surprised to see a tall figure in 
white wandering about the room. It was 
her cousin Isa, distracted by toothache, but 
Marjorie, calling to mind various stories of 
ghosts, thought it "a sight to make a saint 
tremble," adding naively, "it made me 
quiver from top to toe." Next day, in the 
full light of sunshine, she took revenge on 
her fears by writing down boldly — "Super- 
stition is a very very mean thing and should 
be despised and shunned." 

Ever and anon Marjorie comes back to 
religious statements such as, "I am sure 
that death the righteous love to see, But 






MARJORIE FLEMING 119 

from it doth the wicked flee : I am sure they 
fly as fast as their legs can carry them." 
There is now a quiet chuckle in the phil- 
osopher's throat when repeating the most 
solemn statements received from her 
friends. There was a hint of it in a previous 
reference to her lessons in Multiplication 
and Religion. It was still more marked in 
hen list of subjects of instruction — reading, 
writing, and arithmetic, and many other 
things — religion into the bargain. But here 
it is heard plainly out at the idea of the 
kicked skipping along as fast as their legs 
could carry them. 

Isa is the subject of a new poem in these 
pages — the pretty lines beginning, "I love 
in Isa's bed to lie." There was a small 
blank space in the journal at the foot of the 
poem, and here . Marjorie wrote the ex- 
planation given in the text. She wrote it 
upside down to show that it was only a foot- 
note! Love for Isa is the one changeless 
theme of Marjorie's thoughts. In darkness 
or in light, in sorrow or joy, Isa is always 
the beloved, the "learned witty and sen- 



120 MARJORIE FLEMING 

sible." "one of our beauties just now," the 
benefactress whose services can never be re- 
paid, the Venus de Medici, fair as a Greek 
statue. 

The present journal is fairly crowded 
with happy bits from our girl poet. Her 
father went to Edinburgh to see her, and 
she devotes to him a poem of six lines, end- 
ing, "Honest and well behaved is he, and 
busy as a little bee" — an industrious little 
father! 

But Marjorie could write poetical 
thoughts in prose. She liked to fondle a 
sentimental fancy for sequestered shades, 
turning her back on the "bustel of the nosey 
town," in order to "walk in lonely solitude." 
Braehead of all places arouses this poetical 
vein, for it has every kind of rustic loveli- 
ness, not far off is the Firth of Forth, where 
she could listen to the "howl of the wind" 
and the "dashing roar" of the waves. It 
was Marjorie's friend, Walter Scott, who 
portrayed on a larger poetic canvas, the 
same "Stormy Firth" in his ballad of Rosa- 
belle: 



MARJORIE FLEMING 121 

The blackening wave is edged with white, 
To inch and rock the sea mews fly; 

The fishers have heard the water sprite, 
Whose screams forbode that wreck is 
nigh. 

And, by the bye, was not Rosabelle, like our 
Maidie, a Kirkcaldy girl, whose attempted 
passage from Castle Ravensheuch in the 
Lang Toun to the Edinburgh side had such 
a woeful issue: 

The sea caves rung and the wild winds sung 
The dirge of lovely Rosabelle. 

Braehead was everything to Marjorie — 
"rural filisity," "content, retirement," 
friendship books." It is only amid the trees 
of Braehead that she can sing: 

I have been a naughty girl, 
I have been a naughty girl. 
The lofty trees their heads do shake. 
When the wind blows a noise they make. 

And it was love of Braehead that inspired 
the earnest if not very lofty poem beginning, 
"Beautious Isabella, say how long at Brae- 
head will you stay?" 



122 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Marjorie's happiness brims over in what 
may be called her own poem, beginning, 
"Of summer I am very fond," a glad hymn 
in which Nature and Isa Keith are equally 
praised. Marjorie's trick of mental balanc- 
ing and rapid correction of her statements is 
shown in almost every page. In the poem 
before us she says, "My lover Isa walks with 
me," but as this might seem to imply too 
much, she quickly adds:! 

My lover I am sure she's not, 
But I'm contented with my lot. 

The loyal ode on the King's birthday was 
suggested by the jubilee of the accession of 
George III., which took place in the sum- 
mer of 1810, and was celebrated in Edin- 
burgh with great splendor. The poem re- 
produces fairly enough current opinions, 
but our Maidie was too outspoken to be 
poet-laureate. She herself did not take the 
matter seriously, for she breaks off the 
poem, as she often did others, with a jest. 

Popular religious notions and popular 
usage in religious terms led Marjorie to mix 



MARJORIE FLEMING 123 

up curiously the spiritual and the material 
worlds. Probably all children do so, but 
only Marjorie could show us in verse so 
very strange a result. With the exuberant 
joy of healthy childhood she revelled in the 
sweet summer air, which comes down from 
heaven — from heaven, where everything is 
pleasant and good, and so follows a medita- 
tion on celestial happiness. Plainly the 
girl's religion was again a happy one. We 
no longer hear of "God who can kill you in 
a moment," but God who "showers down 
blessings on our heads." 

Marjorie is, however, on safer ground 
when describing the antics of her aunt's 
monkey, a subject more likely to interest a 
child; and it is with a start of surprise and 
joy that we catch her actually washing her 
doll's clothes and enjoying an action which 
is so unlike an author! And yet — and yet 
we have just been looking at the dainty wee 
table and the little stool that formed part of 
the furniture at Marjorie's dolls' parties. 

There is no lack of variety in our young 
author's subjects. Who but she would have 



124 MARJORIE FLEMING 

selected for poetic treatment the elopement 
of a servant lass? Who but she, from the 
height of her seven years of age, would re- 
prove the erring Jessie with the words: 

Your poor poor father will repine 
And so would I if you were mine. 

Nor could the rash runaway charge Mar- 
jorie with the inexperience in such matters, 
for without a pause the lively maiden pro- 
ceeds to sing of one of her own lovers. We 
know not if "fair Philip" was real or imag- 
inary — very real, one may well suppose, 
since his hair, his clothing, and his teeth, 
are so minutely described. Despite her ob- 
jections to the sunny gleam in his locks, "his 
only fault," the little poet, following the ex- 
ample of some poetic love-lorn maid, tries 
to work herself into a jealous frenzy over 
the supposed fickleness of her swain. Chil- 
dren love to exercise, or pretend to exercise, 
every emotion in the life that is so new to 
them, just as a poor man might explore 
every part of a new inheritance. That Mar- 
jorie did not let the iron of jealousy sink 



MARJORIE FLEMING 125 

deeply into her soul is evident from the ease 
with which she breaks off her reproaches to 
tell us that "the sun is seen glimmering 
through the trees." 

The lament for the three turkeys, it is to 
be feared, will become the most famous of 
all Pet Marjorie's "poems," because of the 
unusual vigor of its language. Following 
the exalted diction of her favorite poets, 
Marjorie makes all her subjects "fair," 
whether they be men or women or turkeys, 
and "their fellow fowls" is reminiscent of 
the literary language of the period. With 
a touch of poetic insight, Marjorie insists 
that her subjects, animal or human, are all 
swayed by the same feelings as her readers — 
"they sigh and weep as well as you." No 
doubt there is an apparent inconsistency in 
this case, where the unnatural mother of the 
departed turkeys emitted no sigh nor let a 
single tear roll down her beak, but her cal- 
lousness was one of the saddest parts of the 
tragedy. Having invested her fowls with 
human feelings, Marjorie does not shrink 
from giving them a human fate — they have 



ia6 MARJORIE FLEMING 

left this world for ever, their souls are 
"launched into eternity," and the mind, fol- 
lowing their mysterious destiny there, is 
vaguely disturbed by the noisy cranching of 
their bones here. 

This anthology ends appropriately with 
Marjorie's description of her mornings, 
creeping into the warm bed where her sleep- 
ing Isa lies, teasing her awake, enjoying her 
improving conversation, and finally leaving 
her cousin "reading the fasts," while she 
herself says her prayers, gets her porridge, 
and goes downstairs. A dear little girl is 
our Marjorie. 

About this time her cousin wrote to Mar- 
jorie's sister in Kirkcaldy a description of 
the little student. Marjorie herself had 
been writing home offering her sister an or- 
ange which she had got from a friend, and 
Miss Keith wrote : 

"I hope you will excuse the shortness of 
Maidie's letter, and trusting to a longer one 
from her soon, accept a few lines from me 



.. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 127 

instead. She is going on very briskly with 
her lessons, in all of which she is, I hope, 
improving, except her Musick. She dislikes 
it so much that she loses all patience, but I 
hope when she gets the length of playing a 
tune she will like it better and pay more 
attention to it. 

"She is very fond of history, and is read- 
ing the History of Scotland at present, in 
which she is much interested. 

"She continues her journal every day en- 
tirely by herself. It is a very amusing pro- 
duction indeed, and when finished I shall 
send it over for your mother's perusal, and I 
hope you will find it more correct and better 
written than the last. 

"I have almost entirely given up her 
dancing, as it took up a great deal too much 
time, and a few lessons a year or two after 
this will do her infinitely more good. 

"She is grown excessively fat and strong, 
but I cannot say she is in great beauty, as 
she has lost two front teeth, and her x con- 
tinual propensity to laugh exhibits the de- 
fect rather unbecomingly." 



128 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Our child genius was thus by no means 
"sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought," 
but a strong, plump, laughing little girl. 

It was chiefly during this period in Mar- 
jorie's little life that she was thrown into the 
company of Walter Scott, and made a deep 
impression on his appreciative nature. He 
himself testified that he was amazed at her 
power over him, saying to Mrs. Keith, 
"She's the most extraordinary creature I 
ever met with, and her repeating of Shakes- 
peare overpowers me as nothing else does." 

Marjorie had been spending the summer 
at Ravelston, where Scott also had spent 
many a happy holiday in his boyhood, and 
that of itself was a bond between them. Mrs. 
Keith of Ravelston was his grand-aunt, and 
Marjorie's aunt, Marianne, was married to 
Mrs. Keith's son William. But there was 
also the older tie of the intimacy of Mar- 
jorie's mother with Scott when they were 
playmates, nearly thirty years before. To 
Marjorie Scott was an interesting mystery, 
for she read and enjoyed his poems, he was 
learned in just the kind of lore that she liked 






MARJORIE FLEMING 129 

best, and yet he could often pretend to be 
very stupid. 

Nor was Marjorie less of a revelation and 
a puzzle to Scott. Her combination of 
child-like notions with literary tastes and 
capacities, and, above all, her simple, inno- 
cent, loving nature, drew the greatest Scots- 
man of the age like a magnet. 

Scott's house in Edinburgh was quite near 
that of Maidie's aunt, and they saw much of 
each other. Marjorie taught him many 
nursery rhymes, and when he pretended to 
great difficulty, she rebuked him with most 
comical gravity, treating him as a child. As 
Dr. Brown records: 

"He used to say when he came to Alibi 
Crackaby he broke down. Pin-Pan, Musky- 
Dan, Tweedle-um, Twodle-um, made him 
roar with laughter. He said Musky-Dan 
especially was beyond endurance, bringing 
up an Irishman and his hat fresh from the 
Spice Islands and odoriferous Ind; she get- 
ting quite bitter in her displeasure at his ill 
behavior and stupidness. Then he would 



130 MARJORIE FLEMING 

read ballads to her in his own glorious way, 
the two getting wild with excitement over 
Gil Morrice, or the Baron of Smailholm, 
and he would take her on his knee and make 
her repeat Constance's speeches in King 
John, till he swayed to and from sobbing his 
fill." 

The following little sketch from Dr. 
Brown's picturesque pages describes our 
Marjorie in the center of her court: 

"The year before she died, when in Edin- 
burgh, she was at a Twelfth Night supper 
at Scott's, in Gastle Street. The company 
had all come — all but Marjorie; and all 
were dull because Scott was dull. 'Where's 
that bairn? What can have come over her? 
I'll go myself and see!' and he was getting 
up, and would have gone, when the bell 
rang, and in came Duncan Roy and his 
henchman Dougal, with the Sedan chair, 
which was brought right into the lobby, and 
its top raised. And there in its darkness and 
dingy old cloth sat Maidie in white ; her eyes 
gleaming, and Scott bending over her in 



MARJORIE FLEMING 131 

ecstasy — 'hung over her enamoured.' 'Sit ye 
there, my dautie, till they all see you/ and 
forthwith he brought them all. You can 
fancy the scene. And he lifted her up and 
marched to his seat with her on his stout 
shoulder, and set her down beside him; and 
then began the night, and such a night. 
Those who knew Scott best said, that night 
was never equalled. Maidie and he were 
the stars; and she gave them Constance's 
speeches, and Helvellyn — the ballad much 
in vogue — and all her repertoire, Scott 
showing her off, and being of ttimes rebuked 
by her for his intentional blunders." 

It is a striking picture, like nothing else in 
literature. The flower of cultured Edin- 
burgh were present, and in the center, ad- 
mired by all, were the great novelist and our 
little heroine — the ripe litterateur of thirty- 
eight and the child of seven! 

Marjorie's fourth journal contains the 
most ambitious work she had yet undertaken 
— a rhymed history of Mary Queen of Scots. 
In its strange mingling of cleverness and 



i 3 2 MARJORIE FLEMING 

childish limitations the poem contains food 
for serious reflection, as well as for enjoy- 
ment. Still more striking would it appear 
if we were able to show the little girl's own 
copy, with her careful corrections of spell- 
ing and Isa Keith's occasional marks. Did 
ever epic poet attempt to ride the winged 
Pegasus under such trying conditions? 

"THE LIFE OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 

BY M. F. 

"Poor Mary Queen of Scots was born 
With all the graces which adorn 
Her birthday is so very late 
That I do now forget the date 
Her education was in france 
There she did learn to sing and dance 
There she was married to the dauphin 
But soon Tie was laid in a coffin 
Then she at once from France retired 
Where she had been so much admired 
Fare well dear france she cried at last 
While a despairing look she cast 
The nobels came to meet there Queen 
Whom they before had never seen 



MARJORIE FLEMING 133 

They never saw a face so fair 
For there is no such beauties there 
That with her they could compair 
She was a Roman Catholic strong 
Nor did she think that it it was w 7 rong 
But they her faith could not well bear 
And to upbraid her they would dare 
There was a man who was quite good 
To preach against her faith he would 
His name was John Knox a reformer 
Of Mary he was a great scorner 
Her nation was so very feirce 
That they your very hart could peirce 
In love she fell and deap it was 
Lord Darnly was the very cause 
Anobels son a handsome lad 
By some queer way or other had 
Got quite the better of her hart 
With him she always talked apart 
Silly he was but very fair 
A greater buck w T as not found there 
He was quite tall & slender too 
And he could dance as well as you 
Soon was the nupsials done & ore 
Of it there was said nothing more 



134 MARJORIE FLEMING 

They lived togeather for a while 
And happiness did there time beguile 
Mary was charmed with a player 
Of whom she took a great great care 
He fed upon the finest fair 
He was her greatest favourite 
Him she caressed with all her might 
She gave him food she gave him wine 
When he was gone she would repine 
The king heard this with anger sore 
This is not all there is much more 
For he did murder the poor player 
Of whom she took so great a care 
In agony she heaved a sigh 
For on the King she did relie 
Bad hatered at length found a way 
It was a little more than play 
An awful day at last arived 
Which was the last that he survived 
For she went to a masquerade 
But for that thing he dearly paid 
For in her absence what was done 
The thing would not I'm sure give fun 
The house in which the King did lie 
I cannot think without a sigh 



MARJORIE FLEMING 13$ 

Was blowen up at too next day 

The King was killed I'm sorry to say 

Some degree of suspicion fell 

On the mighty Earl of Bothwell 

And of the Queen they did think too 

That of that thing she quite well knew 

For they do think that Mary was 

Of Darnlys death the very cause 

But he was guiltless of the crime 

But it was only for that time 

Mary went to meet her son 

That thing did not give her much fun 

For Bothwell under some pretence 

And with a great deal of expence 

Marched to a town there found the 

Queen 
He was quite glad when she was seen 
He then disperced her slender train 
That did not give her any pain 
His castle of Dunbar she went 
It was just there that she was sent 
Poor Mary did not shew much terror 
I must say this is an great error 
This opportunity they catched 
For there they did wish to be mached 



136 MARJORIE FLEMING 

To Edinburgh the Queen was brought 
He was quite glad that she was caught 
The castle then was in his power 
His temper was quite bad & sower 
There she was lodged in the castle 

'Which was as bad near as the bastile 
He was then married to the Queen 
Of whom he did not care a pin 
The nobles formed a conspiracy 
On poor Bothwell & poor Mary 
Kirkaldy of grange and some more 
His name I did not tell before 
The nobles soldiars were quite brave 
And they there masters lives would save 
Poor Bothwells friends were not the 

same 
And spread but a small degree of f aim 
For their poor master they forsook 
But in their base fligh he pertook 
For he said to the Queen adieu 
Thqse that behave so are but few 
The King said to the Queen farewell 
For his poor soldiars nearly fell 
After Bothwell went away 

' In a humour not like play 



MARJORIE FLEMING 137 

She gave herselfe up with much ease 
And she did try them all to please 
The soldiars behaved very bad 
It would indeed have put me mad 
For when she turned her eyes so bright 
She always saw a dreadful sight 
Darnlys picture with her poor son 
That did not give her any fun 
Judge and revenge my cause cried he 
This Mary could not bear to see 
Covered with dust droping a tear 
A spectical did she appear 
To break her marrage she would not 
Though it would happy make her lot 
This her bad nobles would not bear 
Though she was then so very fair 
To Lochleven was she then carried 
She would not say she was not married 
At last from prison she got away 
She got from prison I do say 
All her great arts she had employed 
And the success she had enjoyed 
Her keepers brother gained she had 
He was a very fine young lad 
At last she hinted that she would 



138 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Make him her husband if she could 
On Sunday night the second of May 
She did escape that very day 
At supper when his brother sat 
I have not got a rhyme for that 
And all the family had retired 
His cleverness I much admired 
One of his friends stole of the keys 
To let her out when she did please 
Let out poor Mary & her maid 
Indeed she got from him much aid 
But for that thing his brother paid 
She got to the boat which was prepaired 
Nobody but george for her cared 
There she did meet her friends on shore 
Who had been there some time before 
At Setons house she sat some time 
There she got good bread & good wine 
She then got up and rode away 
Full of great mirth & full of play 
To Hamilon she came at last 
For she did galop very fast 
Then she her followers all prepaired 
And fealty to their Queen they sweared 
They marched against the regent who 



MARJORIE FLEMING 139 

Could perhaps fight as well as you 
Mary meanwhile was on a hill 
Where she did stand up quite stock still 
The regent Murry ganed them all 
And every one of hers did fall 
She then did mount again to ride 
For on her friends she couldn't confide 
She flew to England for protection 
For Elisabeth was her connection 
Elisbeth was quite cross and sour 
She wished poor Mary in her power 
Elisbeth said she would her keep 
And in her kingdom she might sleep 
But to a prison she was sent 
Elisbeths hart did not relent 
Full nineteen years & mayhap more 
Her legs became quite stif & sore 
At last she heard she was to die 
And that her soul would mount the sky 
She was quite overjoyed at this 
She thought it was her greatest bliss 
The hour of death at last drew nigh 
When she did mount the scaffold high 
Upon the block she laid her head 
She was as calm as if in bed 



140 MARJORIE FLEMING 

One of the men her head did hold 
And then her head was of I'm told 
There ends all Queen Elisbeths foes 
And those who at her bend their bows 
Elisbeth was a cross old maid 
Now when her youth began to fade 
Her temper was worce then before 
And people did not her adore 
But Mary was much loved by all 
Both by the great & by the small 
But hark her soul to heaven did rise 
And I do think she gained a prise 
For I do think she would not go 
Into the awfull place below 
There is a thing that I must tell 
Elisabeth went to fire and hell 
Him who will teach her to be cevel 
It must be her great friend the divel 

The "epic" of Queen Mary was Mar- 
jorie's magnum opus, and although it may 
seem absurd to say that it was the result of 
years of reflection, there is evidence in the 
copy books that for at least two years Mar- 
jorie's mind reverted again and again to the 



MARJORIE FLEMING 141 

sad story of the royal beauty. The girl had 
studied the history along with Isa Keith, she 
had examined portraits of Mary Stuart, and 
in the earlier journals she recorded her im- 
pressions of the subject much as she does in 
this poem. The title of "poem" is not too 
dignified to apply to Marjorie's production 
for it shows considerable power of design, 
and sustains the interest of the reader 
throughout its two hundred lines. "Poor 
Mary," the first words of the poem, indicate 
the writer's attitude throughout. The 
Queen's beauty and the Queen's troubles are 
kept ever prominent, but the Queen's f raility 
is not condoned. "I must say that was a 
great error," observed the impartial histor- 
ian when recording a faux pas, but the dis- 
loyalty of the populace, who dared to flout 
their beautiful Queen, is equally reprobated. 
Only once is the critic tempted to abandon 
her virtuous neutrality — when recording the 
gallant action of George Douglas in contriv- 
ing Mary's escape from Lochleven. Mar- 
jorie's romantic feelings would not permit 
her to blame the act. When dealing with 



i 4 2 MARJORIE FLEMING 

good Queen Bess, our Madgie is the per- 
sonification of fiery indignation. To use a 
word of her own, she becomes "birsie." The 
English Queen is "a cross old maid," who 
allowed the fair Mary Stuart to linger in 
the dungeon until "her legs became quite 
stif & sore," and then killed her. Great is 
the contrast between the fates awarded to 
the rival Queens by their juvenile judge. It 
was as if Queen Mary, in spite of her infirm- 
ities, represented all that was fair and lov- 
able in Marjorie herself, and so gained the 
affection of her friends and the favor of 
Heaven; while Elizabeth, whose "temper 
was worce then before," took her color from 
the nature that Marjorie had fought against 
and conquered, and so fell under the doom 
of all that was awful in Scottish theology 
and demonology. 

As a change from historical studies Mar- 
jorie chose for her next poem the monkey 
already mentioned. The poem runs thus: 



"SONNET. 



"O lovely O most charming pug 
Thy gracefull air and heavenly mug 



MARJORIE FLEMING 143 

The beauties of his mind do shine 
And every bit is shaped so fine 
Your very tail is most devine 
Your teeth is whiter than the snow 
You are a great buck & a bow 
Your eyes are of so fine a shape 
More like a Christians than an ape 
His cheeks is like the roses blume 
Your hair is like the ravens plume 
His noses cast is of the roman 
He is a very pretty weoman 
I could not get a rhyme of roman 
And was obliged to call it weoman" 

The concluding couplet is characteristic 
of Marjorie's audacious humor. 

Resuming her more serious vein, Pet 
Marjorie wrote a rhymed chronicle of the 
reigns of the Jameses, Kings of Scotland, 
the history of each reign being followed by 
an appropriate moral. 

"THE LIFE OF THE KING JAMESES. 

"At Perth poor James the first did die 
That wasn't a joy & luxury 



i 4 4 MARJORIE FLEMING 

And the poor King was murdered there 
The nobles to do this did dare 
For he to check their power had tried 
The effort made, did hurt their pride 
"The second James was not so good 
To break his promise I know he would 
He once did say into an earl 
He would not bring him into perl 
He bid him come to Stirling Castle 
In this James behaved like a rascle 
Upon the Kings word he relied 
And to the castle he then hied 
He wished him to give up the confederacy 
I would have dont if I was he 
The earl refused to do that thing 
At this quite furious was the King 
He puts his sword into his guts 
And gave him many direfull cuts 
His vassals all to arms ran 
Their leader was a cowardly man 
From the field he ran with terror 
I must say this was an (great) error 
He was killed by a cannon splinter 
In the middle of the winter 



MARJORIE FLEMING 145 

Perhaps it was not at that time 
But I could get no other ryhme 

"James the third was very mean 
And with mean persons was seen 
He loved others more than his nobels 
That was the cause of all his troubles 
Very much he then insulted 
And he seldom them consulted 
For a long time this he had done 
At last they got his youthfull son 
And in battle he did engage 
Though he was fifteen years of age 
They marched against the very King 
For having been both bad and mean 
James the thirds life ends this way 
Of his faults take care I say 

"James the fourth was a charming prince 
We have not got a better since 
In flodden field alas fell he 
The Lords were vexed this to see 
Thus fell a good King & a brave 
He fell untimely to his grave 

"James the fifth loved favourites too 
Which was a thing he should not do 



146 MARJORIE FLEMING 

At Pinkey were his armies killed 
And with triumph they were not filled 
He died of grief & of dispair 
His nobles for this did not care 
Thus fell five kings most crually 
When I hear of them I'm ready to sign 
A King I should not like to be 
I'd be frightened for a conspiracy" 

This second study of Scottish history is 
less ambitious than the first, but here also we 
catch echoes of former meditations. The 
lines are in a lighter vein than those on 
Queen Mary; they contain more evident 
nonsense and samples of Marjorie's favorite 
jokes, such as the confession that the want of 
"ryhme" led her to say things that she did 
not seriously intend. The object of the 
poem is to illustrate by "sad stories of the 
deaths of kings" the unhappiness of a mon- 
arch's lot. "Thus fell five kings most 
crually," and therefore "a King I should not 
like to be." 

The last page of this fourth journal is an- 
other reminder of a fact which one is very 



MARJORIE FLEMING 147 

likely to forget, that after all Marjorie was 
only a little girl learning to write. It con- 
sists of copybook lines: 

G&9fte#MC Octane. GZ+nevKZ Gw<m€- 



repeated over and over. 

Marjorie's journals cover nearly three 
years of her life, from the winter of 1808-9, 
to mid-summer 181 1. She began them when 
just six years old, and the first was finished 
in the following June. July saw the second 
commenced, and it was quite filled up when 
she had but newly completed her seventh 
year. In April, i8iO, she began the third, 
and did not write the final pages until au- 
tumn. The more exacting task of composing 
and writing out the poems on Queen Mary, 
the Jameses, and humbler subjects, occupied 
the winter of 1810-1 1, and the last copybook 
lesson in this last journal is dated July, 181 1. 
During these two years and a half Maidie 
made good progress in writing, in spelling, 
in command of words, and in control of 
thoughts. But her winsome individuality 



148 MARJORIE FLEMING 

was as marked at the end as at the beginning 
of the period. All her writings reveal the 
same fond, impulsive, affectionate creature; 
frank and artless in her innocence, yet un- 
consciously showing signs of a generous 
richness of nature, avid of the glad life of 
earth, but ever with a suggestion of some- 
thing dainty and ethereal, lustrous and fair 
as the dew of the morning. 

The last page of the last journal was 
signed and dated "Marjory Fleming, Kirk- 
aldy, July 19," for she had returned to her 
childhood's home in that month. The "poor 
mother in Kirkcaldy" had been longing for 
her little daughter, and it was arranged that 
Maidie should go back to her. Exactly 
three years after she had first crossed the 
Firth of Forth, Marjorie was again taken on 
board the Fife packet, and was soon leaving 
the shores of the Lothians behind. Joy at 
the thought of reunion with father and 
mother and sister and brother was sadly 
tempered with grief at parting with Isa 
Keith, and all her friends at Edinburgh and 
Ravelston and Braehead. Arriving at her 



MARJORIE FLEMING 149 

Kirkcaldy home, Marjorie skipped down 
from the stage-coach, ran eagerly through 
the old archway, glanced at the changes in 
the garden, and tripped upstairs to the old 
familiar rooms. It was a joy to find her 
father and mother again and her darling 
brother and sister, and to be able to greet 
the dear little baby, whom she was to be al- 
lowed to kiss and to pet. It was a joy to join 
her sister in her games and her lessons, and 
to tell her stories of life beyond the Forth. 
But Marjorie soon got quite homesick for 
Isa Keith. When she played on the long 
yellow beach that curves round the lovely 
bay, Marjorie's eyes often turned to the 
opposite shore. From her bedroom window 
she could see across the blue water, far be- 
yond the brown island of Inchkeith, the fa- 
miliar contour of the purple hills of Edin- 
burgh, Arthur's Seat, and the Castle and 
Calton Hill, and she wondered what her Isa 
was doing. When she strolled through the 
shaded avenues pf Raith her thoughts were 
ever of Isa. As was now becoming her habit 



150 MARJORIE FLEMING 

when much moved, Madgie sat down and 
put her longings in verses: 

'"I am now in my native land 
And see my dear friends all at hand 
There is a thing that I do want, 
With you these beauteous walks to haunt, 
We would be happy if you would 
Try to come over if you could. 
Then T would quite happy be 
Now & for all eternity 
Isa is so very kind 
A better girl I could not find 
My mother is so very sweet 
And checks my appetite to eat 
My father shews us what to do 
But I am sure that I want you 
I would be happy you to see 
For I am sure that I love thee 
You are the darling of my heart 
With you I cannot bear to part 
The watter falls we go to see 
I am as happy as can be 
In pastures sweet we go & stray 
I could walk there quite well all day 



i 



MARJORIE FLEMING 151 

At night my head on turf could lay 
There quite well could I sleep all night 
The moon would give its tranciant light 
I have no more of poetry 
O Isa do remember me 
And try to love your 

" Marjory 
"Kirkaldy 26TH July 181 1" 

The royal size of Marjorie's nature no- 
where shows itself more nobly than in her 
treatment of her sister Isabella. Seeing that 
Marjorie was the younger of the two, one 
might expect to find her looking up to the 
older girl with respect, and expecting from 
her help and protection. But their rela- 
tions are the reverse of this. As in their 
earlier childhood Marjorie protected Isa- 
bella, so now she writes of her — "A better 
girl I could not find." 

But while her sister is pleasant, and her 
mother is sweet, and her father is wise, there 
is a void that only her cousin can fill. The 
beauty of Raith, the romantic seclusion of 
its pine-clad glen, and the glint of its water- 



152 MARJORIE FLEMING 

falls, are all suffused with the thought of 
Isa. She can enjoy it all, but only if Isa 
consents to come and share it with her. And 
so she ends with a cry for remembrance and 
love. Isa Keith promised to visit her friends 
in Kirkcaldy and share in Marjorie's walks, 
but as weeks passed the little girl became 
impatient. Addressing Isa Keith as one 
who had been a mother to her, she wrote : 

"My Dear Little Mama, 

"I was truly happy to hear that you are 
all well. My mother bid me tell you that 
you are delaying your visit to long for you 
will not get out which will be a hard re- 
straint to you. We are surrounded with 
measles at present on every side for the 
Herons got it and Isabella Heron was near 
deaths door and one night her father lifted 
her out of bed And she fell down as they 
thought lifeless Mr. Heron said that lassie 
is dead now she said I'm no dead yet she 
then threw up a big worm nine inches and a 
half long. My mother regrets she cannot 
write to you at present as her eyes are very 



MARJORIE FLEMING 153 

sore. I have begun dancing but am not very 
fond of it for the boys strikes and mocks me. 
I have been another night at the dancing & 
like it better I will write to you as often as 
I can but I am afraid I shall not be able to 
write you every week. I long for you to 
fold you in my arms I respect you with re- 
spect due to a mother You dont know how 
I love you so I shall remain your loving 
child 

"M Fleming 

"KlRKALDY SEPTR 1ST l8ll" 

Nearly a fortnight later she wrote: 

"My Dear Mother, 

"You will think that I entirely forget you 
but I assure you that you are greatly mis- 
taken. I think of you allways and often sigh 
to think of the distance between us two 
loving creatures of nature We have regular 
hours for all our occupations first at 7 
o'clock we go to the dancing and come home 
at 8 we then read our bible and get our re- 
peating then we play till 10 then we get our 



154 MARJORIE FLEMING 

musick till 1 1 when we get our writing an 
accounts we sew from 12 till 1 & play till 
dinner after which I get my gramer and 
then work till five at 7 we come & knit till 
8 when we dont go to the dancing this is an 
exact description of our employments You 
have disappointed us all very much espe- 
cially me in not coming over every coach I 
heard I ran to the window but I was always 
disapointed I must take a hasty farewell 
to her whom I love reverence & doat on and 
whom I hope thinks the same of 

"Marjory Fleming. 

"P.S. — An old pack of cards would be 
very exceptible 

"KlRCALDY 12 OCTR l8ll" 

There is displayed in these letters — along 
with interesting descriptions of Madgie's 
new mode of life — a wealth of love, an ar- 
dor of longing, more precious than the treas- 
ures of Ind. With pitiful repetition Maidie 
multiplies expressions of love— longing, 
loving, doting. Every time she heard the 
stage-coach swinging along the narrow 



MARJORIE FLEMING 155 

street of Kirkcaldy Marjorie ran to the win- 
dow, hoping it might bring her idolized 
cousin. One of Isa's replies has been pre- 
served. It is in playful terms addressed to : 

"Miss Muff Maidie Marjory Fleming, 
favored by Rare Rear Admiral Fleming" 

And Isa wrote : 

"I long much to see you and talk over all 
our old stories to gether, and to hear you 
read and repeat. I am pining for my old 
friend Cesario, and poor dear and wicked 
Richard. How is the dear Multiplication 
Table going on? Are you still as much at- 
tached to 9 times 9 as you used to be?" 

There has also been preserved a fragment 
of a letter from Marjorie stating that her 
mother "is quite surprised that she has not 
heard from any of you on which I will com- 
pose the following poem : 

"O Isa why do not you write 
I'm out of mind when out of sight 
I am afraid your dead and gone 



156 MARJORIE FLEMING 

And thus I do begin my moan 

miresable unhappy child 

To lose a mistress meek and mild 
With all the graces which adorn 

1 wish that I was never born 

I cannot bear the thought & Oh 
Indeed I wish it was not so 
Thine eyes with luster will not show 
And in the grave where it is drere 
Thou shalt be laid a lady fair 
It fills my hart with great dispair 
Indeed I now must say adieu 
Both to Isabel and you" 

The Isabel here referred to was no doubt 
Isabella Craufurd of Braehead, where Isa 
Keith was probably staying at the time. The 
following scrap was also sent to Braehead, 
for it contains a message to the Misses 
Craufurd. Madgie's brother was about to 
visit his cousin, and Madgie would not miss 
the chance to write a note. Our old friend 
Helvellyn reappears here in a new disguise, 
and Madgie's genius for words awry shines 
in "Momento Mori" — sad omen. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 157 

"My Dear Isa, — 

"I wish I was William that I might see 
you. I have a musick book for the vio- 
loncello and harpsichord and a sermon book 
which I would have sent to you if my 

mother said to ask you first if you would 
take it. 

"Tell the Miss Crawfurds that I always 
remember them Tell the eldest that I keep 
the box as a Momento Mori adieu Dear Isa 

"P.S. — Write the first and last verse of 
hillvalen again adieu" 

The epidemic of measles referred to in 
one of Marjorie's letters soon claimed her- 
self a victim. She became ill in November, 
ill for the first time in her life, and during 
the early days of December she suffered 
much. 

Her sister recorded: 

"My mother was struck by the patient 
quietness manifested by Marjorie during 
this illness, unlike her ardent, impulsive 
nature; but love and poetic feeling were un- 
quenched. 



158 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"When Dr Johnstone rewarded her sub- 
missiveness with a sixpence, the request 
speedily followed that she might get out ere 
New Year's day came. When asked why 
she was so desirous of getting out, she imme- 
diately rejoined, 'Oh, I am so anxious to buy 
something with my sixpence for my dear Isa 
Keith.' 

"Again, when lying very still, her mother 
asked her if there was anything she wished. 
'Oh, yes. If you would just leave the room 
door open a wee bit, and play the Land o' 
the heal, and I will lie and think and enjoy 
myself.' This is just as stated to me by her 
mother and mine." 

So the weakened child lay still, and 
thought and enjoyed herself. Through the 
open door came the plaintive music of Lady 
Nairne's song, and Marjorie's never-failing 
memory filled in the words : 

I'm wearin' awa', John, 

Like snaw wreaths in thaw, John, 

I'm wearin' awa' to 

The Land o' the Leal. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 159 

The last scene in which our Maidie con- 
sciously took part was the most affecting of 
all. On Sunday, 15th December, she was 
apparently so far recovered that she was 
allowed to be up for a little while. The fol- 
lowing narrative by Marjorie's sister de- 
scribes in simple and sympathetic words the 
Sabbath scene in the stricken home: 

"The happy day came, alike to parents 
and child, when Marjorie was allowed to 
come forth from the nursery to the parlour. 
It was Sabbath evening, and after tea my 
father, who idolised the child, and never 
afterwards in my hearing mentioned her 
name, took her in his arms ; and while walk- 
ing up and down the room, she said, 'Father, 
I will repeat something to you; what would 
you like?' He said, 'Just choose yourself, 
Maidie.' She hesitated for a moment be- 
tween the paraphrase, 'Few are thy days 
and full of woe,' and the lines of Burns, 
'Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene?' 
but decided on the latter, a remarkable 
choice for a child." 



160 MARJORIE FLEMING 

A remarkable choice indeed ! Let us pic- 
ture the scene. The ardent mind, triumph- 
ing over the weakness of the body, enables 
our Maidie to speak in her old impressive 
way the moving sentences : 

Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene? 
Have I so found it full of pleasing 
charms? 
Some drops of joy, with draughts of ill be- 
tween, 
Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing 
storms. 
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms? 

Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode? 
For guilt, for guilt my terrors are in arms, 
I tremble to approach an angry God, 
And justly smart beneath His sin-aveng- 
ing rod. 

Fain would I say, forgive my foul offence, 
Fain promise never more to disobey; 

But should my Author health again dis- 
pense, 
Again I might forsake fair virtue's way, 

Again in folly's paths might go astray, 



MARJORIE FLEMING 161 

Again exalt the brute, and sink the man 
Then how should I for heavenly mercy 
pray, 
Who act so counter heavenly mercy's 

plan, 
Who sin so oft have mourned, yet to temp- 
tation ran? 

Was there ever a sadder sight than that 
dear child distressing her sweet soul in such 
awful words as these? 

The sister's narrative continues: 

"The repeating these lines seemed to stir 
up the depths of feeling in her soul. She 
asked to be allowed to write a poem ; there 
was a doubt whether it would be right to 
allow her on account of hurting hex eyes. 
She pleaded earnestly, 'Just this once.' The 
point was yielded, her slate was given her, 
and with great rapidity she wrote an address 
of fourteen lines": — 

"TO HER LOVED COUSIN ON THE AUTHOR'S 
RECOVERY. 

"Oh! Isa pain did visit me 
I was at the last extremity 



162 MARJORIE FLEMING 

How often did I think of you 

I wished your graceful form to view 

To clasp you in my weak embrace 

Indeed I thought I'd run my race 

Good care I'm sure was of me taken 

But still indeed I was much shaken 

At last I daily strength did gain 

And oh! at last away went pain 

At length the doctor thought I might 

Stay in the parlor all the night 

I now continue so to do 

Farewell to Nancy and to you 

Wrote by M. F." 

Those lines to the beloved Isa, whom the 
gifted child loved so passionately, may be 
taken as her last words. 

When Marjorie had written her poem, 
she lay down in bed and was silent. She ap- 
peared to sleep, but at midnight she gave a 
cry of pain, "My head, my head." For three 
days she lay conscious of nothing but the 
pain in her head, and then in the early hours 
of Thursday morning the end come with the 
faint whisper, "Mother, mother." To whom 



MARJORIE FLEMING 163 

did she apply the words? To her real or 
her adopted mother? We cannot tell. 

Here are Mrs. Fleming's own words to 
Miss Keith: 

"To tell you what your Maidie said of 
you would fill volumes ; for you was the con- 
stant theme of her discourse, the subject of 
her thoughts, and ruler of her actions. The 
last time she mentioned you was a few hours 
before all sense save that of suffering was 
suspended, when she said to Dr. Johnstone 
'If you will let me out at New Year I will 
be quite contented.' I asked what made her 
so anxious to get out then? 'I want to pur- 
chase a New Year's gift for Isa Keith with 
the sixpence you gave me for being patient 
in the measles, and I would like to choose it 
myself!' I do not remember her speaking 
afterwards, except to complain of her head, 
till just before she expired, when she articu- 
lated 'Oh, mother, mother!' " 

The poor heart-broken mother, doting on 
the mortal remains of her child as she had 
treasured that child alive, also wrote: 



164 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"Never did I behold so beautiful an ob- 
ject. It resembled the finest wax-work. 
There was in the countenance an expression 
of sweetness and serenity which seemed to 
indicate that the pure spirit had anticipated 
the joys of heaven ere it quitted the mortal 
frame." 

In the long, old-fashioned room that 
beautiful form lay for one short winter day, 
while many friends from far and near passed 
round it and bade a sorrowful farewell to 
those dear features. To the tender and often 
lonely heart of Marjorie it would have been 
a surprise had she known that she had 
drawn to herself the love of so many. 

In the quaint old churchyard of Abbots- 
hall, close beside the wooded policies of 
Raith, lies the sacred dust of that loving 
child. In the church registry, yellow with 
age, may be read the entry: "181 1, Decem- 
ber 21st, — James Fleming's daughter, 
buried in the middle grave of his property." 
Outside, by the side of a little winding foot- 
path, stands a gray, weather-beaten tomb- 



MARJORIE FLEMING 165 

stone, bearing the initials and date, "M. F. 
181 1"; and at the other end of the tiny grave 
stands a little white marble cross with the 
inscription : 

Pet Marjorie 

Marjorie Fleming. 

Born 1803. Died 181 i. 

Down through the long dim years float 
these faint, sweet memories of Pet Marjorie, 
and our thoughts linger lovingly around 
even her family and friends because they 
were hers. Her father survived her death 
by about thirty year$, but the dear thought 
of her never left him, and he could never 
bring himself to speak her name. Maidie's 
mother lived ten years later still, and often 
told the story of Pet Marjorie to her young- 
est daughter, the baby of Marjorie's day. 
The other daughter, Isabella, was about 
eleven years old when Marjorie died, and 
when grown up she married Mr. Bremner, 
merchant, Kirkcaldy. Marjorie's brother, 
William, was thirteen years old when she 
died. He obtained a commission in the 



1 66 MARJORIE FLEMING 

army of the East India Company, took part 
in one naval engagement, and while still a 
youth died in India. Shortly after the death 
of little Marjorie, her friend and cousin, 
Isa Keith, became acquainted with Mr. 
James Wilson, brother of Christopher 
North. They were married in 1824, taking 
up their residence at Woodville, near Edin- 
burgh, where De Quincey was frequently 
their guest. Mr. Wilson traveled much, 
and was a well-equipped naturalist and a 
pleasing writer. They had two children, 
whose youth often reminded their mother 
of her lost Maidie. Mrs. Wilson died in 

1837. 

The house that was hallowed by the birth 
and death of Pet Marjorie is little changed, 
and around it clings an atmosphere of pen- 
sive memories. Mrs. Findlay writes: "I 
sat lately in the sacred room which wit- 
nessed the closing scene of Marjorie's last 
Sabbath on earth. ... In that corner be- 
hind the door once stood the piano on which 
her mother played The Land 0' the Leal 
while Marjorie pondered in her little bed 



MARJORIE FLEMING 167 

upstairs. . . . Somewhere on that space of 
floor had paced Marjorie's father with his 
spirit-like girl held fast in his strong arms; 
somewhere on that space of floor the ethe- 
real child had knelt by a chair to write that 
last message from her loving heart. As I 
gazed in solemn reverie, Marjorie's death 
seemed so real, so recent, so personal a sor- 
row that it was impossible, in that room, to 
realise that the grass had been green and the 
snow white over her tiny grave for fully 
eighty-seven years." 

The walks of Raith still wind by peace- 
ful lake and pretty waterfall, and they wear 
a new glory since Marjorie reveled in their 
beauty. In the bosom of the distant city 
Charlotte Square still forms a green oasis, 
but at the corner the lofty house seems lone 
and silent; it resounds with no girlish laugh- 
ter. At Ravelston the sun shines fair on the 
pond and, "glimmering through the trees," 
flecks the lawn with the fairy tracery of 
their boughs, which Marjorie admired. 
Braehead, the beautiful and beloved, smil- 
ing among the "woulds" where Maidie 



168 MARJORIE FLEMING 

mused "in lonely solitude," and cheerful 
with the company of animals, is all eloquent 
of her who called it "the delight of my 
soul." These childish writings also, in 
which we have the self-revelation of a hu- 
man soul in the shaping, are charged with 
her piquant personality. Pet Marjorie even 
yet is a vivid reality, and will remain a. per- 
petual joy. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 

BY 

JOHN BROWN, M. D. 



I69 



TO 

MISS FLEMING, 

TO WHOM I AM INDEBTED FOR ALL ITS 

MATERIALS, 

Gbie rtdemotfal 

OF HER DEAR AND UNFORGOTTEN 

MAIDIE 

IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED 



171 



MARJORIE FLEMING 

ONE November afternoon in 1810 — the 
year in which Waverley was resumed, 
and laid aside again, to be finished off, its 
last two volumes in three weeks, and made 
immortal in 1814, and when its author, by 
the death of Lord Melville, narrowly 
escaped getting a civil appointment in India 
— three men, evidently lawyers, might have 
been seen escaping like schoolboys from the 
Parliament House, and speeding arm in 
arm down Bank Street and the Mound, in 
the teeth of a surly blast of sleet. 

The three friends sought the bield of the 
low wall old Edinburgh boys remember 
well, and sometimes miss now, as they strug- 
gle with the stout west wind. 

The three were curiously unlike each 
other. One, "a little man of feeble make, 

173 



. 



174 MARJORIE FLEMING 

who would be unhappy if his pony got be- 
yond a foot pace," slight, with "small, ele- 
gant features, hectic cheek, and soft hazel 
eyes, the index of the quick, sensitive spirit 
within, as if he had the warm heart of a 
woman, her genuine enthusiasm, and some 
of her weaknesses." Another, as unlike a 
woman as a man can be; homely, almost 
common, in look and figure; his hat and his 
coat, and indeed his entire covering, worn 
to the quick, but all of the best material; 
what redeemed him from vulgarity and 
meanness were his eyes, deep set, heavily 
thatched, keen, hungry, shrewd, with a 
slumbering glow far in, as if they could be 
dangerous; a man to care nothing for at 
first glance, but somehow to give a second 
and not-forgetting look at. The third was 
the biggest of the three, and though lame, 
nimble, and all rough and alive with power; 
had you met him anywhere else, you would 
say he was a Liddesdale store-farmer, come 
of gentle blood; "a stout, blunt carle," as he 
says of himself, with the swing and stride 



MARJORIE FLEMING 175 

and the eye of a man of the hills, — a large, 
sunny, out-of-door air all about him. On 
his broad and somewhat stooping shoulders 
was set that head which, with Shakespeare's 
and Bonaparte's, is the best known in all the 
world. 

He was in high spirits, keeping his com- 
panions and himself in roars of laughter, 
and every now and then seizing them and 
stopping that they might take their fill of 
the fun. There they stood shaking with 
laughter, "not an inch of their body free" 
from its grip. At George Street they parted : 
one to Rose Court, behind St. Andrew's 
Church; one to Albany Street; the other, 
our big and limping friend, to Castle 
Street. 

We need hardly give their names. The 
first was William Erskine, afterwards Lord 
Kinnedder, chased out of the world by a cal- 
umny, killed by its foul breath, — 

And at the touch of wrong, without a strife, 
Slipped in a moment out of life. 



176 MARJORIE FLEMING 

There is nothing in literature more beau- 
tiful or more pathetic than Scott's love and 
sorrow for this friend of his youth. 

The second was William Clerk, the "Dar- 
sie Latimer," of Redgauntlet, "a man," as 
Scott says, "of the most acute intellects and 
powerful apprehension," but of more pow- 
erful indolence, so as to leave the world 
with little more than the report of what he 
might have been, — a humorist as genuine, 
though not quite so savagely Swiftian as his 
brother, Lord Eldin, neither of whom had 
much of that commonest and best of all the 
humors, called good. 

The third we all know. What has he not 
done for every one of us? Who else ever, 
except Shakespeare, so diverted mankind, 
entertained and entertains a world so liber- 
ally, so wholesomely? We are fain to say ' 
not even Shakespeare, for his is something 
deeper than diversion, something higher 
than pleasure, and yet who would care to 
split this hair? 

Had any one watched him closely before 



MARJORIE FLEMING 177 

and after the parting, what a change he 
would see! The bright, broad laugh, the 
shrewd, jovial word, the man of the Parlia- 
ment House and of the world ; and next step, 
moody, the light of his eye withdrawn, as if 
seeing things that were invisible; his shut 
mouth, like a child's, so impressionable, so 
innocent, so sad; he was now all within, as 
before he was all without; hence his brood- 
ing look. As the snow blattered in his face, 
he muttered : "How it raves and drifts! On- 
ding o' snaw, — ay, that's the word, — on-ding 

" He was now at his own door, "Castle 

Street, No. 39." He opened the door and 
went straight to his den, that wondrous 
workshop, where, in one year, 1823, when 
he was fifty-two, he wrote Peveril of the 
Peak, Quentin Durward, and St. Roman's 
Well, besides much else. We once took the 
foremost of our novelists, the greatest, we 
would say, since Scott, into this room, and 
could not but mark the solemnizing effect 
of sitting where the great magician sat so 
often and so long, and looking out upon 



178 MARJORIE FLEMING 

that little shabby bit of sky and that back- 
green, where faithful Gamp lies. 1 

He sat down in his large green morocco 
elbow-chair, drew himself close to his table, 
and glowered and gloomed at his writing 
apparatus, "a very handsome old box, richly 
carved, lined with crimson velvet, and con- 
taining ink-bottles, taper-stand, etc., in 
silver, the whole in such order that it might 
have come from the silversmith's window 
half an hour before." He took out his paper, 
then starting up angrily, said : " 'Go spin, 

you jade, go spin.' No, d it, it won't 

do, 

'My spinnin' wheel is auld and stiff, 
The rock o't wunna stand, sir, 

To keep the temper-pin in tiff 
Employs ower aft my hand, sir.' 



1 This favorite dog "died about January, 1809, and was 
buried in a fine moonlight night in the little garden behind 
the house in Castle Street. My wife tells me she remembers 
the whole family in tears about the grave, as her father 
himself smoothed the turf above Camp, with the saddest face 
she had ever seen. He had been engaged to dine abroad 
that day, but apologised, on account of the death of 'a dear 
old friend.' " — Lockhart's Life of Scott. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 179 

I am off the fang. 1 I can make nothing of 
Waverley to-day; I'll awa' to Marjorie. 
Come wi' me, Maida, you thief." The great 
creature rose slowly, and the pair were off, 
Scott taking a maud (a plaid) with him. 
"White as a frosted plum-cake, by jingo! 1 ' 
said he, when he got to the street. Maida 
gambolled and whisked among the snow, 
and his master strode across to Young Street, 
and through it to 1 North Charlotte Street, 
to the house of his dear friend, Mrs. Wil- 
liam Keith of Corstorphine Hill, niece of 
Mrs. Keith of Ravelston, of whom he said 
at her death, eight years after : "Much tradi- 
tion, and that of the best, has died with this 
excellent old lady, one of the few persons 
whose spirits and cleanliness and freshness 
of mind and body made old age lovely and 
desirable." 

Sir Water was in that house almost every 
day, and had a key, so in he and the hound 
went, shaking themselves in the lobby. 
"Marjorie! Marjorie!" shouted her friend, 



1 Applied to a pump when it is dry, and its valve has lost 
its "f ang" ; from the German fangen, to hold. 



180 MARJORIE FLEMING 

"where are ye, my bonnie wee croodlin 
doo?" In a moment a bright, eager child of 
seven was in his arms, and he was kissing her 
all over. Out came Mrs. Keith. "Come 
yer ways in, Wattie." "No, not now. I am 
going to take Marjorie wi' me, and you may 
come to your tea in Duncan Roy's sedan, 
and bring the bairn home in your lap." 
"Tak' Marjorie, and it on-ding o' snaw!" 
said Mrs. Keith. He said to himself, "On- 
ding, — that's odd, — that is the very word." 
"Hoot, awa! look here," and he displayed 
the corner of his plaid, made to hold lambs 
(the true shepherd's plaid, consisting of two 
breadths sewed together, and uncut at one 
end, making a poke or cul-de-sac). "Tak' 
yer lamb," said she, laughing at the contri- 
vance; and so the Pet was first well happit 
up, and then put, laughing silently, into the 
plaid neuk, and the shepherd strode off with 
his lamb, — Maida gambolling through the 
snow and running races in her mirth. 

Didn't he face "the angry airt," and make 
her bield his bosom, and into his own room 
with her, and lock the door, and out with 



MARJORIE FLEMING 181 

the warm, rosy little wifie, who took it all 
with great composure! There the two re- 
mained for three or four hours, making the 
house ring with their laughter; you can 
fancy the big man's and Maidie's laugh. 
Having made the fire cheery, he set her 
down in his ample chair, and, standing 
sheepishly before her, began to say his les- 
son, which happened to be: "Ziccotty, dic- 
cotty, dock, the mouse ran up the clock, the 
clock struck wan, down the mouse ran, zic- 
cotty, diccotty, dock." This done repeatedly 
till she was pleased, she gave him his new 
lesson, gravely and slowly, timing it upon 
her small fingers, — he saying it after her: 

Wonery, twoery, tickery, seven; 
Alibi, crackaby, ten, and eleven; 
Pin, pan, musky, dan; 
Tweedle-um, twoddle-um, 
Twenty-wan; eerie, orie, ourie, 
You, are, out. 

He pretended to great difficulty, and she 
rebuked him with most comical gravity, 
treating him as a child. He used to say that 



i8 ; 2 MARJORIE FLEMING 

when he came to Alibi Crackaby he broke 
down, and Pin-Pan, Musky-Dan, Tweedle- 
um, Twoodle-um, made him roar with 
laughter. He said Musky-Dan especially 
was beyond endurance, bringing up an 
Irishman and his hat fresh from the Spice 
Islands and odoriferous Ind; she getting 
quite bitter in her displeasure at his ill-be- 
havior and stupidness. 

Then he would read ballads to her in his 
own glorious way, the two getting wild with 
excitement over Gil Morrice or the Baron 
of Smailholm; and he would take her on his 
knee and make her repeat Constance's 
speeches in King John, till he swayed to and 
fro, sobbing his fill. Fancy the gifted little 
creature, like one possessed, repeating, — 

For I am sick, and capable of fears, 
Oppressed with wrong, and therefore full of 

fears; 
A widow, husbandless, subject to fears; 
A woman, naturally born to fears. 
If thou that bidst me be content, wert grim 



MARJORIE FLEMING 183 

Ugly and slanderous to thy mother's womb, 
Lame, foolish, crooked, swart, prodigious— 

Or, drawing herself up "to the height of her 
great argument, — 

I will instruct my sorrows to be proud, 
For grief is proud, and makes his owner 

stout. 
Here I and sorrow sit. 

Scott used to say that he was amazed at 
her power over him, saying to Mrs. Keith: 
"She's the most extraordinary creature I 
ever met with, and her repeating of Shake- 
speare overpowers me as nothing else does." 

Thanks to the unforgetting sister of this 
dear child, who has much of the sensibility 
and fun of her who has been in her small 
grave these fifty and more years, we have 
now before us the letters and journals of 
Pet Marjorie, — before us lies and gleams 
her rich brown hair, bright and sunny as if 
yesterday's, with the words on the paper, 
"Cut out in her last illness," and two pic- 



1 84 MARJORIE FLEMING 

tures of her by her beloved Isabella, whom 
she worshiped; there are the faded old 
scraps of paper, hoarded still, over which 
her w T arm breath and her warm little heart 
had poured themselves; there is the old 
water-mark, "Lingard, 1808." The two 
portraits are very like each other, but 
plainly« done at different times; it is a 
chubby, healthy face, deep-set, brooding 
eyes, as eager to tell what is going on within 
as to gather in all the glories from without; 
quick with the wonder and the pride of life ; 
they are eyes that would not be soon satis- 
fied with seeing; eyes that would devour 
their object, and yet childlike and fearless; 
and that is a mouth that will not be soon 
satisfied with love; it has a curious likeness 
to Scott's own, which has always appeared 
to us his sweetest, most mobile, and speaking 
feature. 

There she is, looking straight at us as she 
did at him, — fearless and full of love, pas- 
sionate, wild, wilful, fancy's child; One 
cannot look at it without thinking of Words- 
worth's lines on poor Hartley Coleridge: 



MARJORIE FLEMING 185 

blessed vision, happy child! 
Thou art so exquisitely wild, 

1 thought of thee with many fears, 

Of what might be they lot in future years. 
I thought of times when Pain might be thy 

guest, 
Lord of thy house and hospitality; 
And Grief, uneasy lover! ne'er at rest, 
But when she sat within the touch of thee. 
Oh, too industrious folly! 
Oh, vain and causeless melancholy! 
Nature will either end thee quite, 
Or, lengthening out thy season of delight, 
Preserve for thee by individual right 
A young lamb's heart among the full-grown 

flock. 

And we can imagine Scott, when holding 
his warm, plump little playfellow in his 
arms, repeating that stately friend's lines: 

Loving she is, and tractable, though wild, 
And Innocence hath privilege in her, 
To dignify arch looks and laughing eyes, 
And feats of cunning; and the pretty round 
Of trespasses, affected to provoke 






1 86 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Mock chastisement and partnership in play. 
And, as a fagot sparkles on the hearth, 
Not less if unattended and alone, 
Than when both young and old sit gathered 

round, 
And take delight in its activity, 
Even so this happy creature of herself 
Is all-sufficient; solitude to her 
Is blithe society; she fills the air 
With gladness and involuntary songs. 

But we will let her disclose herself. We 
need hardly say that all this is true, and that 
these letters are as really Marjorie's as was 
this light brow 7 n hair; indeed, you could as 
easily fabricate the one as the other. 

There was an old servant, Jeanie Robert- 
son, who was forty years in her grandfather's 
family. Marjorie Fleming, or, as she is 
called in the letters, and by Sir Walter, 
Maidie, was the last child she kept. Jeanie's 
wages never exceeded £3 a year, and, when 
she left service, she had saved £40. She 
was devotedly attached to Maidie, rather 
despising and ill-using her sister Isabella — 



MARJORIE FLEMING 187 

a beautiful and gentle child. This partiality 
made Maidie apt at times to domineer over 
Isabella. "I mention this" (writes her sur- 
viving sister), "for the purpose of telling 
you an instance of Maidie's generous justice. 
When only five years old, when walking in 
Raith grounds, the two children had run on 
before, and old Jeanie remembered they 
might come too near a dangerous mill-lade. 
She called to them to turn back. Maidie 
heeded her not, rushed all the faster on, and 
fell, and would have been lost, had her sister 
not pulled her back, saving her life, but 
tearing her clothes. Jeanie flew on Isabella 
to 'give it her' for spoiling her favorite's 
dress; Maidie rushed in between, crying 
out: 'Pay [whip] Maidjie as much as you 
like, and I'll not say one word; but touch 
Isy, and I'll roar like a bull!' Years after 
Maidie was resting in her grave, my mother 
used to take me to the place, and told the 
story always in the exact same words." This 
Jeanie must have been a character. She 
took great pride in exhibiting Maidie's 
brother William's Calvinistic acquirements, 



1 88 MARJORIE FLEMING 

when nineteen months old, to the officers of 
a militia regiment then quartered in Kirk- 
caldy. This performance was so amusing 
that it was often repeated, and the little 
theologian was presented by them with a 
cap and feathers. Jeanie's glory was "put- 
ting him through the carritch" (catechism) 
in broad Scotch, beginning at the beginning 
with, "Wha made ye, ma bonnie man?" For 
the correctness of this and the three next 
replies Jeanie had no anxiety, but the tone 
changed to menace, and the closed nieve 
(fist) was shaken in the child's face as she 
demanded, "Of what are you made?" 
"Dirt!" was the answer uniformly given. 
"Wull ye never learn to say dust, ye thrawn 
deevil?" with a cuff from the opened hand, 
was the as inevitable rejoinder. 

Here is Maidie's first letter before she was 
six. The spelling unaltered, and there are 
no "commoes" : 

"My dear Isa — I now sit down to answer 
all your kind and beloved letters which you 
were so good as to write to me. This is the 



MARJORIE FLEMING 189 

first time I ever wrote a letter in my Life. 
There are a great many Gifls in the Square 
and they cry just like a pig when we are un- 
der the painfull necessity of putting it to 
Death. Miss Potune a Lady of my acquaint- 
ance praises me dreadfully. I repeated 
something out of Dean Swift, and she said I 
was fit for the stage, and you may think I 
was primmed up with majestick Pride, but 
upon my word felt myselfe turn a little 
birsay — birsay is a word which is a word 
that William composed which is as you may 
suppose a little enraged. This horrid fat 
simpliton says that my Aunt is beautifull 
which is intirely impossible for that is not 
her nature." 

What a peppery little pen we wield! 
What could that have been out of the sar- 
donic Dean? what other child of that age 
would have used "beloved" as she does? 
This power of affection, this faculty of be- 
loving, and wild hunger to be beloved, 
comes out more and more. She perilled her 
all upon it, and it may have been as well — 



igo MARJORIE FLEMING 

we know, indeed, that it was far better — 
for her that this wealth of love was so soon 
withdrawn to its one only infinite Giver and 
Receiver. This must have been the law of 
her earthly life. Love was indeed "her Lord 
and King;" and it was perhaps well for her 
that she found so soon that her and our only 
Lord and King himself is Love. 

Here are bits from her Diary at Brae- 
head: 

"The day of my existence here has been 
delightful and enchanting. On Saturday I 
expected no less than three well-made bucks, 
the names of whom is here advertised. Mr. 
Geo. Crakey [Craigie], and Wm. Keith and 
Jn. Keith — the first is the funniest of every 
one of them. Mr. Crakey and I walked to 
Crakyhall [Craigiehall] hand and hand in 
Innocence and matitation [meditation] 
sweet thinking on the kind love which flows 
in our tender hearted mind which is over- 
flowing with majestic pleasure no one was 
ever so polite to me in the hole state of my 
existence. Mr. Craky you must know is a 
great Buck and pretty good-looking. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 191 

"I am at Ravelston enjoying nature's 
fresh air. The birds are singing sweetly— 
the calf doth frisk and nature shows : her 
glorious face." 

Here is a confession: "I confess I have 
been very more like a little young divil than 
a creature for when Isabella went upstairs 
to teach me religion and my multiplication 
and to be good and all my other lessons I 
stamped with my foot and threw my ne^ihat 
which she had made on the ground and., was 
sulky and was dreadfully passionate, but she 
never whiped me but said Marjory go into 
another room and think what a great crime 
you are committing letting your temper .git 
the better of you. But I went so sulkily that 
the devil got the better of me but she never 
never never whips me so that I think I 
would be the better of it and the next time 
that I behave ill I think she should do it, for 
she never does it. . . . Isabella has given 
me praise for checking my temper for I : >yas 
sulky even when she was kneeling an wfrole 
hour teaching me to write." 

Our poor little wifie, she has no doubts, of 



192 MARJORIE FLEMING 

the personality of the Devil! "Yesterday I 
behave extremely ill in God's most holy 
church for I would never attend myself nor 
let Isabella attend which was a great crime 
for she often, often tells me that when to or 
three are geathered together God is in the 
midst of them, and it was the very same 
Divil that tempted Job that tempted me I 
am sure; but he resisted Satan though he 
had boils and many many other misfortunes 
which I have escaped. ... I am now going 
to tell you the horible and wretched plaege 
[plague] that my multiplication gives me 
you can't conceive it the most Devilish thing 
is 8 times 8 and 7 times 7 it is what nature 
itself cant endure." 

This is delicious; and what harm is there 
in her "Devilish"? it is strong language 
merely; even old Rowland Hill used to say 
"he grudged the Devil those rough and 
ready words." "I walked to that delightful 
place Crakyhall with a delightful young 
man beloved by all his friends especially by 
me his loveress, but I must not talk any 
more about him for Isa said it is not proper 



MARJORIE FLEMING 193 

for to speak of gentalmen but I will never 
forget him! ... I am very very glad that 
satan has not given me boils and many other 
misfortunes — In the holy bible these words 
are written that the Devil goes like a roar- 
ing lyon in search of his pray but the lord 
lets us escape from him but we" (pauvre 
petite!) "do not strive with this awfull 
Spirit. . . . To-day I pronounced a word 
which should never come out of a lady's lips 
it was that I called John a Impudent Bitch. 
I will tell you what I think made me in so 
bad a humor is I got one or two of thait bad 
bad sina [senna] tea to-day," — a better ex- 
cuse for bad humor and bad language than 
most. 

She has been reading the book of Esther : 
fit was a dreadful thing that Haman was 
hanged on the very gallows which he had 
prepared for Mordeca to hang him and his 
ten sons thereon and it was very wrong and 
cruel to hang his sons for they did not com- 
mit the crime; but then Jesus was not then 
come to teach us to be merciful! 9 This is 
wise and beautiful, — has upon it the very 



194 MARJOAIE FLEMING 

dew of youth and of holiness. Out of the 
mouths of babes and sucklings He perfects 
His praise. 

"This is Saturday and I am very glad of 
it, because I have play half the Day and I 
get 'money too but alas I owe Isabella 4 
pence for I am finned 2 pence whenever I 
bite my nails. Isabella is teaching me to 
make simme colings nots of interrigations 
peorids commoes, etc. ... As this is Sun- 
day I will meditate upon Senciable and Re- 
ligious subjects. First I should be very 
thankful I am not a begger." 

This amount of meditation and thankful- 
ness seems to have been all she was able for. 

"I am going to-morrow to a delightfull 
place, Braehead by name, belonging to Mrs. 
Crraford, where there is ducks cocks hens 
bubblyjocks 2 dogs 2 cats and swine which is 
delightful. I think it is shocking to think 
that the dog and cat should bear them" (this 
is a meditation physiological) , "and they are 
drowned after all. I would rather have a 
man-dog than a woman-dog, because they 
do not bear like women-dogs; it is a hard 



MARJORIE FLEMING 195 

case — it is shocking. I cam here to enjoy 
natures delightful breath it is sweeter than a 
fial [phial] of rose oil." 

Braehead is the farm the historical Jock 
Howison asked and got from our gay James 
the Fifth, "the gudeman o' Ballengiech," as 
a reward for the services of his flail when 
the king had the worst of it at Cramond 
Brig with the gypsies. The farm is un- 
changed in size from that time, and still in 
the unbroken line of the ready and victor- 
ious thresher. Braehead is held on the con- 
dition of the possessor being ready to pre- 
sent the king with a ewer and basin to wash 
his hands, Jock having done this for his un- 
known king after the splore, and when 
George the Fourth came to Edinburgh this 
ceremony was performed in silver at Holy- 
rood. It is a lovely neuk, this Braehead, 
preserved almost as it was two hundred 
years ago. "Lot and his wife," mentioned 
by Maidie, — two quaintly cropped yew- 
trees — still thrive ; the burn runs as it did in 
her time, and sings the same quiet tune — as 
much the same and as different as Now and 



196 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Then. The house full of old family relics 
and pictures, the sun shining on them 
through the small deep windows with their 
plate-glass; and there, blinking at the sun, 
and chattering contentedly, is a parrot, that 
might, for its looks of eld, have been in the 
ark, and domineered over and deaved the 
dove. Everything about the place is old 
and fresh. 

This is beautiful : "I am very sorry to say 
that I forgot God — that is to say I forgot to 
pray to-day and Isabella told me that I 
should be thankful that God did not forget 
me — if he did, O what become of me if I 
was in danger and God not friends with me 
— I must go to unquenchable fire and if I 
was tempted to sirl — how could I resist it O 
no I will never do it again — no no — if I can 
help it." (Canny wee wifie!) "My religion 
is greatly falling off because I dont pray 
with so much attention when I am saying 
my prayers, and my charecter is lost among 
the Braehead people. I hope I will be re- 
ligious again — but as for regaining my char- 




MARJORIE FLEMING 197 

ecter I despare for it." (Poor little "habit 
and repute"!) 

Her temper, her passion, and her "bad- 
ness" are almost daily confessed and de- 
plored : "I will never again trust to my own 
power, for I see that I cannot be good with- 
out God's assistance — I will trust in my own 
selfe, and Isa's health will be quite ruined 
by me — it will indeed." "Isa has giving me 
advice, which is, that when I feal Satan be- 
ginning to tempt me, that I flea him and he 
would flea me." "Remorse is the worst 
thing to bear, and I am afraid that I will 
fall a marter to it." 

Poor dear little sinner! — Here comes the 
world again: "In my travels I met with a 
handsome lad named Charles Balfour, Esq., 
and from him I got ofers of marage — offers 
of marage, did I say? Nay plenty heard 
me." A fine scent for "breach of promise"! 

This is abrupt and strong: "The Divil is 
curced and all works. 'T is a fine work New- 
ton on the profecies. I wonder if there is 
another book of poems comes near the Bible. 



198 MARJORIE FLEMING 

The Divil always grins at the sight of the 
Bible." "Miss Potune" (her "simpliton" 
friend) "is very fat; she pretends to be very 
learned. She say she saw a stone that dropt 
from the skies; but she is a good Christian." 
Here comes her views on church govern- 
ment: "An Annibabtist is a thing I am not a 
member of — I am a Pisplekan [Episcopa- 
lian] just now, and" (O you little Laodi- 
cean and Latitudinarian!) "a Prisbeteran at 
Kirkcaldy" \—\Blandula! Vagula! ccelum 
et animum mutas qua trans mare (i. e., trans 
Bodotriam ) -curris!^ — "my native town." 
"Sentiment is not what I am acquainted 
with as yet, though I wish it, and should 
like to practise it" ( !) "I wish I had a great, 
great deal of gratitude in my heart, in all 
my body." "There is a new novel published, 
named Self-Control" (Mrs. Brunton's) "a 
very good maxim forsooth!" This is shock- 
ing: "Yesterday a marrade man, named 
Mr. John Balfour, Esq., offered to kiss me, 
and offered to marry me, though the man" 
(a fine directness this!) "was espused, and 



MARJORIE FLEMING 199 

his wife was present and said he must ask 
her permission; but he did not. I think he 
was ashamed and confounded before 3 gen- 
telman — Mr. Jobson and 2 Mr. Kings. " 
"Mr. Banester's" (Bannister's) "Budjet is 
to-night; I hope it will be a good one. :-. A 
great many authors have expressed them- 
selves too sentimentally." You are right, 
Marjorie. "A Mr. Burns writes a beautiful 
song on Mr. Cunhaming, whose wife de- 
sarted him — truly it is a most beautiful one." 
"I like to read the Fabulous historys, about 
the histerys of Robin, Dickery, flapsay, and 
Peccay, and it is very amusing, for some 
were good birds and some were bad, but 
Peccay was the most dutiful and obedient 
to her parients." "Thomson is a beautiful 
author, and Pope, but nothing to Shake- 
spear, of which I have a little knoledge. 
Macbeth is a pretty composition, but awful 
one." "The Newgate Calender is very in- 
structive" (!) "A sailor called here to say 
farewell ; it must be dreadful to leave his 
native country when he might get a wife; 



200 MARJORIE FLEMING 

or perhaps me, for I love him very much. 
But O I forgot, Isabella forbid me to speak 
about love." This antiphlogistic regimen 
and lesson is ill to learn by our Maidie, for 
here she sins again: "Love is a very papi- 
thatick thing" (it is almost a pity to correct 
this into pathetic), "as well as troublesome 
and tiresome — but O Isabella forbid me to 
speak of it." Here are her reflections on a 
pineapple: "I think the price of a pine- 
apple is very dear : it is a whole bright goul- 
den guinea, that might have sustained a poor 
family." Here is a new vernal simile : "The 
hedges are sprouting like chicks from the 
eggs when they are newly hatched or, as the 
vulgar say, clacked/' "Doctor Swift's works 
are very funny; I got some of them by 
heart." "Morehead's sermons are I hear 
much praised, but I never read sermons of 
any kind; but I read novelettes and my 
Bible, and I never forget it, or my prayers." 
Bravo, Marjorie! 

She seems now, when still about six, to 
have broken out into song: 



i 



MARJORIE FLEMING 201 

Ephibol [Epigram or Epitaph — who 

knows which?] on my dear love 

Isabella 

Here lies sweet Isabell in bed 
With a night-cap on her head; 
Her skin is soft, her face is fair, 
And she has very pretty hair; 
She and I in bed lies nice, 
And undisturbed by rats or mice; 
She is disgusted with Mr. Worgan, 
Though he plays upon the organ. 

Her nails are neat, her teeth are white, 
Her eyes are very, very bright; 
In a conspicuous town she lives, 
And to the poor her money gives : 
Here ends sweet Isabella's story, 
And may it be much to her glory. 

Here are some bits at random: 

Of summer I am very fond, 
And love to bathe into a pond ; 
The look of sunshine dies away, 
And will not let me out to play; 
I love the morning's sun to spy 



202 MARJORIE FLEMING 

Glittering through the casement's eye, 

The rays of light are very sweet, 

And puts away the taste of meat; 

The balmy breeze comes down from heaven, 

And makes us like for to be living. 

"The casawary is an curious bird, and so 
is the gigantic crane, and the pelican of the 
wilderness, whose mouth holds a bucket of 
fish and water. Fighting is what ladies is 
not qualyfied for, they would not make a 
good figure in battle or in a duel. Alas! we 
females are of little use to our country. The 
history of all the malcontents as ever was 
hanged is amusing." Still harping on the 
Newgate Calendar! 

"Braehead is extremely pleasant to me by 
the companie of swine, geese, cocks, etc., 
and they are the delight of my soul." 

"I am going to tell you of a melancholy 
story. A young turkie of 2 or 3 months old, 
would you believe it, the father broke its 
leg, and he killed another! I think he ought 
to be transported or hanged." 

"Queen Street is a very gay one, and so is 



MARJORIE FLEMING 203 

Princes Street, for all the lads and lassies, 
besides bucks and beggars parade there." 

"I should like to see a play very much, for 
I never saw one in all my life, and don't be- 
lieve I ever shall ; but I hope I can be con- 
tent without going to one. I can be quite 
happy without my desire being granted." 

"Some days ago Isabella had a terrible fit 
of the toothake, and she walked with a long 
night-shift at dead of night like a ghost, and 
I thought she was one. She prayed for na- 
ture's sweet restorer — balmy sleep — but did 
not get it — a ghostly figure indeed she was, 
enough to make a saint tremble. It made 
me quiver and shake from top to toe. Super- 
stition is a very mean thing, and should be 
despised and shunned." 

Here is her weakness and her strength 
again: "In the love-novels all the heroines 
are very desperate. Isabella will not allow 
me to speak about lovers and heroins, and 
'tis too refined for my taste." Miss Eg- 
ward's [Edgeworth's] tails are very good, 
particularly some that are very much 



20 4 MARJORIE FLEMING 

adapted for youth [ !] as Lazy Laurance and 
Tarelton, False Keys, etc., etc." 

"Tom Jones and Grey's Elegey in a coun- 
try churchyard are both excellent, and much 
spoke of by both sex, particularly by the 
men." Are our Marjories nowadays better 
or worse because they cannot read Tom 
Jones unharmed? More better than worse ; 
but who among them can repeat Gray's 
Lines on a Distant Prospect of Eton College 
as could our Maidie? 

Here is some more of her prattle : "I went 
into Isabella's bed to make her smile like 
the Genius Demedicus (the Venus de Med- 
icis), "or the statute in an ancient Greece, 
but she fell fast asleep in my very face, at 
which my anger broke forth, so that I awoke 
her from a comfortable nap. All was now 
hushed up again, but again my anger burst 
forth at her bidding me get up." 

She begins thus softly: 

Death the righteous love to see, 
But from it doth the wicked flee. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 205 

Then suddenly breaks off (as if with laugh- 
ter) : 

"I am sure they fly as fast as their legs can 
carry them!" 

There is a thing I love to see, 
That is our monkey catch a flee. 

I love in Isa's bed to lie, 
Oh, such a joy and luxury! 
The bottom of the bed I sleep, 
And with great care within I creep ; 
Oft I embrace her feet of lillys, 
But she has goton all the pillys. 
Her neck I never can embrace,-* 
But I do hug her feet in place. 
How childish and yet how strong and 
free is her use of words! "I lay at the foot 
of the bed because Isabella said I disturbed 
her by continial fighting and kicking, but I 
was very dull, and continially at work read- 
ing the Arabian Nights, which I could not 
have done if I had slept at the top. I am 
reading the Mysteries of Udolpho. I am 
much interested in the fate of poor, poor 
Emily." 



i 



06 MARJORIE FLEMING 
Here is one of her swains: 

Very soft and white his cheeks, 
His hair is red, and grey his breeks; 
His tooth is like the daisy fair, 
His only fault is in his hair. 

This is a higher flight: 

DEDICATED TO MRS. H. CRAWFORD BY THE 
AUTHOR, M. F. 

Three turkeys fair their last have breathed, 

And now this world forever leaved ; 

Their father, and their mother too, 

They sigh and weep as well as you ; 

Indeed, the rats their bones have cranched. 

Into eternity theire launched. 

A direful death indeed they had, 

As wad put any parent mad; 

But she was more than usual calm, 

She did not give a single dam. 

This last word is saved from all sin by its 
tender age, not to speak of the want of the n. 
We fear "she" is the abandoned mother, in 
spite of her previous sighs and tears. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 207 

"Isabella says when we pray we should 
pray fervently, and not rattel over a prayer 
— for that we are kneeling at the footstool 
of our Lord and Creator, who saves us from 
eternal damnation, and from unquestionable 
fire and brimston." 

She has a long poem on Mary Queen of 
Scots : 

Queen Mary was much loved by all, 
Both by the great and by the small, 
But hark! her soul to heaven doth rise! 
And I suppose she has gained a prize — 
For I do think she would not go 
Into the awful place below; 
There is a thing that I must tell, 
Elizabeth went to fire and hell ; 
He who would teach her to be civil, 
It must be her great friend the divil! 

She hits off Darnley well: 

A noble's son, a handsome lad, 
By some queer way or other, had 
Got quite the better of her heart, 
With him she always talked apart: 



AoS MARJORIE FLEMING 

Silly he was, but very fair, 

A greater buck was not found there. 

"By some queer way or other" ; is not this 
the general case and the mystery, young 
ladies and gentlemen? Goethe's doctrine of 
"elective affinities" discovered by our Pet 
Maidie! 

SONNET TO A MONKEY 

lively, O most charming pug, 

Thy graceful air, and heavenly mug; 
The beauties of his mind do shine, 
And every bit is shaped and fine. 
Your teeth are whiter than the snow, 
Your a great buck, your a great beau; 
Your eyes are of so nice a shape, 
I More like a Christian's than an ape; 
Your cheek is like the rose's blume, 
Your hair is like the raven's plume; 
His nose's cast is of the Roman, 
He is a very pretty woman. 

1 could not get a rhyme for Roman, 
So was obliged to call him woman. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 209 

This last joke is good. She repeats it when 
writing of James the Second being killed at 
Roxburgh : 

He was killed by a cannon splinter, 
Quite in the middle of the winter; 
Perhaps it was not at that time, 
But I can get no other rhyme! 

Here is one of her last letters, dated Kirk- 
caldy, 1 2th October, 181 1. You can see how 
her nature is deepening and enriching: 

"My Dear Mother, — You will think 
that I entirely forgot you, but I assure you 
that you are greatly mistaken. I think of 
you always and often sigh to -think of the 
distance between us two loving creatures of 
nature. We have regular hours for all our 
occupations first at 7 o'clock we go to the 
dancing and come home at 8 we then read 
our Bible and get our repeating and then 
play till ten then we get our music till 1 1 
when we get our writing and accounts we 



:io MARJORIE FLEMING 

sew from 12 till 1 after which I get my 
gramer and then work till five. At 7 we 
come and knit till 8 when we dont go to the 
dancing. This is an exact description. I 
must take a hasty farewell to her whom I 
love, reverence and doat on and who I hope 
thinks the same of 

"Marjory Fleming. 
"P.S. — An old pack of cards [ !] would be 
very exeptible." 

This other is a month earlier: 

"My dear little Mama, — I was truly 
happy to hear that you were all well. We 
are surrounded with measles at present on 
every side, for the Herons got it, and Isa- 
bella Heron was near Death's Door, and one 
night her father lifted her out of bed, and 
she fell down as they thought lifeless. Mr. 
Heron said, — 'That lassie's deed noo' — 'I'm 
no deed yet' She then threw up a big 
worm nine inches and a half long. I have 
begun dancing, but am not very fond of it, 



J 



MARJORIE FLEMING 211 

for the boys strikes and mocks me. — I have 
been another night at the dancing; I like it 
better. I will write to you as often as I can ; 
but I am afraid not every week. I long for 
you with the longings of a child to embrace 
you — to hold you in my arms. I respect you 
with all the respect due to a mother. You 
dont know how I love you. So I shall re- 
main, your loving child — M. FLEMING." 

What rich involution of love in the words 
marked! Here are some lines to her be- 
loved Isabella, in July, 181 1: 

There is a thing that I do want, 

With you these beauteous walks to haunt, 

We would be happy if you would 

Try to come over if you could. 

Then I would all quite happy be 

Now and for all eternity. 

My mother is so very sweet, 

And checks my appetite to eat; 

My father shows us what to do ; 

But O I'm sure that I want you. 

I have no more of poetry; 



212 MARJORIE FLEMING 

O Isa do remember me, 
And try to love your Marjory. 

In a letter from "Isa" to 

"Miss Muff Maidie Marjory Fleming 
favored by Rare Rear-Admiral Fleming," 

she says : "I long much to see you, and talk 
over all our old stories together, and to hear 
you read and repeat. I am pining for my 
old friend, Cesario, and poor Lear, and 
wicked Richard. How is the dear Multipli- 
cation table going on? are you still as much 
attached to 9 times 9 as you used to be?" 

But this dainty, bright thing is about to 
flee — to come "quick to confusion!" The 
measles she writes of seized her, and she 
died on the 19th of December, 181 1. The 
day before her death, Sunday, she sat up in 
bed, worn and thin, her eye gleaming as 
with the light of a coming world, and with 
a tremulous, old voice repeated the follow- 
ing lines by Burns, — heavy with the shadow 



MARJORIE FLEMING 213 

of death, and lit with the fantasy of the 
judgment-seat, — the publican's prayer in 
paraphrase: 

Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene? 
Have I so found it full of pleasing 
charms? 
Some drops of joy, with draughts of ill be- 
tween, 
Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renewing 
storms. 
Is it departing pangs my soul alarms? 

Or death's unlovely, dreary, dark abode? 
For guilt, for GUILT my terrors are in arms; 
I tremble to approach an angry God, 
And justly smart beneath his sin-avenging 
rod. 

Fain would I say, "Forgive my foul of- 
fence!" 
Fain promise never more to disobey; 
But should my Author health again dis- 
pense, 
Again I might forsake fair virtue's way, 
Again in folly's path might go astray, 



2i 4 . MARJORIE FLEMING 

Again exalt the brute and sink the man. 
Then how should I for heavenly mercy 
pray, 
Who act so counter heavenly mercy's 

plan, 
Who sin so oft have mourned, yet to temp- 
tation ran? 

O Thou^great Governor of all below, 

If I might dare a lifted eye to thee, 
Thy nod can make the tempest cease to blow, 

And still the tumult of the raging sea ; 
With that controlling power assist even me 

Those headstrong furious passions to con- 
fine, 
For all unfit I feel my powers to be 

To rule their torrent in the allowed line; 

O aid me with Thy help, OMNIPOTENCE 
Divine 

It is more affecting than we care to say to 
read her mother's and Isabella Keith's let- 
ters written immediately after her death. 
Old and withered, tattered and pale, they 
but when you read them, how 



MARJORIE FLEMING 215 

quick, how throbbing with life and love! 
how rich in that language of affection which 
only women, and Shakespeare, and Luther 
can use, — that power of detaining the soul 
over the beloved object and its loss. 

K. Philip to Constance: 

You are as fond of grief as of your child. 

Const. : 

Grief fills the room up of my absent child, 

Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me ; 

Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, 

Remembers me of all his gracious parts, 

Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form. 

Then I have reason to be fond of grief. 

What variations cannot love play on this one 
string! 

In her first letter to Miss Keith, Mrs. 
Fleming says of her dead Maidie: 

"Never did I behold so beautiful an ob- 
ject. It resembled the finest waxwork. 
There was in the countenance an expression 
of sweetness and serenity which seemed to 
indicate that the pure spirit had anticipated 



216 MARJORIE FLEMING 

the joys of heaven ere it quitted the mortal 
frame. To tell you what your Maidie said 
of you would fill volumes ; for you was the 
constant theme of her discourse, the subject 
of her thoughts, and ruler of her actions. 
The last time she mentioned you was a few 
hours before all sense save that of suffering 
was suspended, when she said to Dr. John- 
stone, 'If you will let me out at the New 
Year, I will be quite contented.' I asked 
her what made her so anxious to get out 
then. 'I want to purchase a New Year's 
gift for Isa Keith with the sixpence you 
gave me for being patient in the measles; 
and I would like to choose it myself.' I do 
not remember her speaking afterwards, 
except to complain of her head, till just 
before she expired, when she articulated, 
'O mother! mother!' " 

Do we make too much of this little child, 
who has been in her grave in Abbotshall 
Kirkyard these fifty and more years? We 
may of her cleverness, — not of her affection- 
ateness, her nature. What a picture the 



MARJORIE FLEMING 217 

animosa in fans gives us of herself, her vivac- 
ity, her passionateness, her precocious love- 
making, her passion for nature, for swine, 
for all living things, her reading, her turn 
for expression, her satire, her frankness, her 
little sins and rages, her great repentances! 
We don't wonder Walter Scott carried her 
off in the neuk of his plaid, and played him- 
self with her for hours. 

The year before she died, when in Edin- 
burgh, she was at a Twelfth Night Supper 
at Scott's in Castle Street. The company had 
all come, — all but Marjorie. Scott's famil- 
iars, whom we all know, were there, — all 
were come but Marjorie; and all were dull 
because Scott was dull. "Where's that 
bairn? what can have come over her? I'll 
go myself and see." And he was getting up 
and would have gone, when the bell rang 
and in came Duncan Roy and his henchman 
Dougal, with the sedan-chair, which was 
brought right into the lobby, and its top 
raised. And there, in its darkness and dingy 
old cloth, sat Maidie in white, her eyes 
gleaming, and Scott bending over her in 



2i 8 MARJORIE FLEMING 

ecstasy, — "hung over her enamored." "Sit 
ye there, my dautie, till they all see you;" 
and forthwith he brought them all. You can 
fancy the scene. And he lifted her up and 
marched to his seat with her on his stout 
shoulder, and set her down beside him; and 
then began the night, and such a night! 
Those who knew Scott best said that night 
was never equaled ; Maidie and he were the 
stars; and she gave them Constance's 
speeches and Helvellyn, the ballad then 
much in vogue, and all her repertoire, — 
Scott showing her off, and being ofttimes re- 
buked by her for his intentional blunders. 

We are indebted for the following — and 
our readers will be not unwilling to share 
our obligations — to her sister: 

"Her birth was 15th January, 1803; her 
death, 19th December, 181 1. I take this 
from her Bibles. 1 I believe she was a child 
of robust health, of much vigor of body, and 
beautifully formed arms, and until her last 

1 " Her Bible is before me; a pair, as then called; the 
faded marks are just as she placed them. There is one at 
David's lament over Jonathan." 



MARJORIE FLEMING 219 

illness, never was an hour in bed. She was 
niece to Mrs. Keith, residing in No. 1 North 
Charlotte Street, who was not Mrs. Murray 
Keith, although very intimately acquainted 
with that old lady. My aunt was a daughter 
of Mr. James Rae, surgeon, and married the 
younger son of old Keith of Ravelstone. 
Corstorphine Hill belonged to my aunt's 
husband; and his eldest son, Sir Alexander 
Keith, succeeded his uncle to both Ravel- 
stone and Dunnottar. The Keiths were not 
connected by relationship with the Howi- 
sons of Braehead; but my grandfather and 
grandmother (who was), a daughter of 
Cant of Thurston and Giles-Grange, were 
on the most intimate footing with our Mrs. 
Keith's grandfather and grandmother; and 
so it has been for three generations, and the 
friendship consummated by my cousin Wil- 
liam Keith marrying Isabella Craufurd. 

"As to my aunt and Scott, they were on a 
very intimate footing. He asked my aunt to 
be godmother to his eldest daughter, Sophia 
Charlotte. I had a copy of Miss Edge- 



aao MARJORIE FLEMING 

worth's Rosamond, and Harry and Lucy, 
for long which was 'a gift to Marjorie from 
Walter Scott,' probably the first edition of 
that attractive series, for it wanted Frank 
which is always now published as part of 
the series, under the title of Early Lessons. 
I regret to say these little volumes have 
disappeared. 

"Sir Walter was no relation of Mar- 
jorie's, but of the Keiths, through the Swin- 
tons; and, like Marjorie, he stayed much at 
Ravelstone in his early days, with his grand- 
aunt Mrs. Keith; and it was while seeing 
him there as a boy, that another aunt of 
mine composed, when he was about four- 
teen, the lines prognosticating his future 
fame that Lockhart ascribes in his Life to 
Mrs. Cockburn, authoress of The Flowers 
of the Forest: 

'Go on, dear youth, the glorious path pursue 
Which bounteous Nature kindly smooths 

for you; 
Go bid the seeds her hands have sown arise, 



MARJORIE FLEMING 221 

By timely culture to their native skies; 
Go, and employ the poet's heavenly art, 
Not merely to delight, but mend the heart' 

Mrs. Keir was my aunt's name, another of 
Dr. Rae's daughters." We cannot better end 
than in the words from this same pen: "I 
have to ask you to forgive my anxiety in 
gathering up the fragments of Marjorie's 
last days, but I have an almost sacred feeling 
to all that pertains to her. You are quite 
correct in stating that measles were the cause 
of her death. My mother was struck by the 
patient quietness manifested by Marjorie 
during this illness, unlike her ardent, im- 
pulsive nature; but love and poetic feeling 
were unquenched. When Dr. Johnstone 
rewarded her submissiveness with a six- 
pence, the request speedily followed that she 
might get out ere New Year's day came. 
When asked why she was so desirous of 
getting out, she immediately rejoined: 'O, 
I am so anxious to buy something with my 
sixpence for my dear Isa Keith.' Again, 



222 MARJORIE FLEMING 

when lying very still, her mother asked hei 
if there was any thing she wished: 'O yes! 
if you would just leave the room door open 
a wee bit, and play The Land o' the Leal, 
and I will lie and think, and enjoy myself 
(this is just as stated to me by her mother 
and mine). Well, the happy day came, 
alike to parents and child, when Marjorie 
was allowed to come forth from the nursery 
to the parlor. It was Sabbath evening, and 
after tea. My father, who idolised this 
child, and never afterwards in my hearing 
mentioned her name, took her in his arms; 
and while walking her up and down the 
room, she said : 'Father, I will repeat some- 
thing to you; what would you like?' He 
said, 'Just choose yourself, Maidie.' She 
hesitated for a moment between the para- 
phrase, 'Few are thy days, and full of woe,' 
and the lines of Burns already quoted, but 
decided on the latter, a remarkable choice 
for a child. The repeating these lines 
seemed to stir up the depths of feeling in 
her soul. She asked to be allowed to write 
a poem ; there was a doubt whether it would 



MARJORIE FLEMING 223 

be right to allow her, in case of hurting her 
eyes. She pleaded earnestly, 'Just this once'; 
the point was yielded, her slate was given 
her, and with great rapidity she wrote an 
address of fourteen lines, 'To her loved 
cousin on the author's recovery,' her last 
work on earth : 

'Oh! Isa, pain did visit me, 
I was at the last extremity; 
How often did I think of you, 
I wished your graceful form to view, 
To clasp you in my weak embrace, 
Indeed I thought I'd run my race: 
Good care, I'm sure, was of me taken, 
But still indeed I was much shaken, 
At last I daily strength did gain, 
And oh! at last, away went pain: 
At length the doctor thought I might 
Stay in the parlor all the night; 
I now continue so to do, 
Farewell to Nancy and to you.' 

She went to bed apparently well, awoke in 
the middle of the night with the old cry of 



224 MARJORIE FLEMING 

woe to a mother's heart, 'My head, my 
head! 5 Three days of the dire malady, 
'water in the head,' followed, and the end 



came." 



"Soft, silken primrose, fading timelessly." 

It is needless, it is impossible, to add any- 
thing to this : the fervor, the sweetness, the 
flush of poetic ecstasy, the lovely and glow- 
ing eye, the perfect nature of that bright 
and warm intelligence, that darling child. 
Lady Nairne's words, and the old tune, 
stealing up from the depths of the human 
heart, deep calling unto deep, gentle and 
strong like the waves of the great sea hush- 
ing themselves to sleep in the dark; the 
words of Burns touching the kindred chord ; 
her last numbers, "wildly sweet," traced 
with thin and eager fingers, already touched 
by the last enemy and friend, — moriens 
canity — and that love which is so soon to 
be her everlasting light, is her song's burden 
to the end. 



MARJORIE FLEMING 225 

"She sets as sets the morning star, which goes 
Not down behind the darkened west, nor 

' hides 
Obscured among the tempests of the sky, 
But melts away into the light of heaven." 












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